


Spin

by stuckontheboyband



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1940s homophobia, A/B/O Universe, AU, Alpha Steve, Brock is a major dick, Bucky has his arms, DJ Bucky Barnes, Derogatory Language, Loud Sex, M/M, MPreg (mentioned), Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bucky - Freeform, Semi-Public Sex, Shrunkyclunks, Steve has lots of feels and negative thoughts, Thor Is a Good Bro, UST, Use of Derogatory Terms, devaluing omegas, i'll add tags as i go, non-canon compliant, though most of it is in Steve's head, virgin! Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckontheboyband/pseuds/stuckontheboyband
Summary: Steve has been struggling with the idea that it's ok to be a gay alpha in the 21st century. Then one night while out with Natasha, he spies a DJ that he just can't get out of his head.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 71
Kudos: 182





	1. DJ Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in over 8 years, and the first Stucky or A/B/O fic I've ever done so I hope I get the feel for it right - more of the A/B/O universe will be explored in chapter two, it was kind of background in this. Unbeta'd so please be gentle!

The deep bass of the dj set that had just started reverberated through Steve’s body. What had started off as a promising quiet evening of drinks with Natasha had quickly turned into something far less savoury as the crowd jostled. Now, there was barely room to stand at the bar and the dance floor filled with Saturday night revellers. Steve’s eyes darted around the room, lost in the lower lighting that was flashing, the scent of the room heady and overwhelming, the noise almost too much to bear. The soldier in him tensed; there was no way of knowing who was even in the building, let alone the ability to get to an exit quickly without hurting anyone. It wasn’t right. He leaned close to Natasha’s ear so he could be heard.

“Tell me again why we’re here?” he shouted ruefully.

Natasha just grinned at him, pulling on his wrists. Steve shook his head. No.

For the past few weeks Nat had been taking him out on Saturday nights, working their way through the city’s nightlife one bar at a time. “To get you in touch with what young people do nowadays” was the excuse Nat gave, but Steve noticed every single time they did this, she was constantly introducing him to random strangers. At first, beautiful woman after beautiful woman was brought to him, mostly omegas but some betas as well. Most of them giggling and embarrassed, probably because they knew who he was. Steve was polite, but the conversations quickly died. After a couple of sessions of this, and much chastising from Nat, she started bringing attractive men instead. This presented a new problem.

He simply didn’t know how to talk to men who showed any interest, and some of them were so forward and crass that it made him blush. Some alpha he was; most rolled their eyes and walked off early in the conversation. He’d always be reduced to a red faced, stuttering, awkward, bumbling mess. He had never known how to hit it off with someone, how to even _know_ he was hitting it off. Before the war, what he was had been so frowned upon that he would never have dared act on it, and during the war there was simply no time for that sort of thing. One of the biggest adjustments he’d made in the few months since he’d woken up was how accepting society seemed to be now. Finally, he didn’t have to hide. Just… he didn’t know how exactly to stop hiding either.

Steve brought himself back into the present and blinked as he realised Nat had coaxed him onto the dance floor. That was another part of his “training”. She was teaching him all kinds of modern dancing, though if Steve was honest, it was nothing like the dancing from his time. While his super serum body picked up most physical activities really quickly, there was an intricacy to dancing that seemed to evade him. He could pick up the steps alright, but his movements were still awkward and clunky and not at all graceful like the way Natasha moved. Or the way the DJ was dancing behind the booth. Steve turned to face him, jealousy clouding his thinking.

The dj was tall and muscular, yet fine built and graceful in a way Steve could only dream of being. His body moved fluidly, though how he managed that in the skin tight distressed jeans he was wearing was nothing short of a miracle, and left little to the imagination. He was clearly lost in the music, pressing buttons and shifting things Steve couldn’t quite see as he moved effortlessly in time to the beat. Steve didn’t really understand how any of this worked; what even a dj did that made the music do all those things. Maybe he should try and figure it out. Ignoring Nat’s protests, he moved closer to the booth. The dj looked up, his chin length hair falling over his face. Flicking it back, he grinned and winked at Steve. Almost immediately, Steve’s face began to flush and he froze to the spot. Focussing on his breathing, Steve steeled himself with the reminder that he’d probably just been recognised; the dj _definitely_ wasn’t flirting with him. He’d already turned back to the task at hand, bending over to pick something up and giving Steve a great view of his ass. He felt a sharp elbow in his side and a voice in his ear. Nat was standing in front of him, her back to the booth.

“You can do better, you know. Stop gawking. And close your mouth; you’re not a goldfish. Besides, he’s working, so unless you feel like hanging out until the end of the night you’re not going to pick him up anyway.”

Steve didn’t even bother turning to Natasha as he started protesting “But I’m not…”

His words were cut short as the dj stood back up, turned his head and winked at Steve again over his shoulder. Steve looked around him but those steel blue eyes from behind the booth were definitely zeroed in on him, and they were… hungry. Lustful. Meaning that when he’d leant over, that had been deliberate too. Steve felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he should be disgusted by the blatant way the dj had been showing him _what could be his_. The thought made his breath catch in his throat, raggedy and rasping, like he’d somehow developed asthma all over again. It was a heady feeling, and Steve found it captivating, and that in turn made him feel guilty.

Then he was being pulled away. Nat was shaking her head at him as she led him away from the dance floor and upstairs into a quieter part of the bar. Steve looked at the ground, cheeks burning. He felt rather than heard Nat sigh beside him.

“I think we missed the most important part of your training.”

“M’not… what are you talking about?”

Nat steeled her gaze on Steve. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa they were now sitting on. More than anything, the image of the dj bending over was searing its way into his memory, playing over and over. That look in his eyes. He’d wanted something from Steve and it was taking a lot of self control not to focus on that. Images flashed before Steve’s eyes, for a moment kind enough to imagine what life would be like if the dj was his boyfriend. Wow. His boyfriend.

Natasha clicked her fingers in front of Steve’s face.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad. And you haven’t even met the guy yet. You were basically having a panic attack up there, Steve.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but underneath there was something else lurking. Concern, Steve realised as he cringed. He groaned softly, burying his face in his hands. Of course he couldn’t entertain those thoughts. He shouldn’t. He hadn’t even met the guy. Didn’t know anything about him. That… wasn’t safe. That must be what Natasha meant. Basic training, know who you’re dealing with whether it’s personal or professional. He’d allowed himself to lose sight of that in there. He couldn’t let that happen.

Nat nudged him gently. “Hey, this isn’t a pity party. You should go to Tony if you want someone to cry and bond with.”

Steve smiled softly, knowing Tony would kill them both if he heard Nat say it. Probably kill him first, not many wanted to mess with Natasha Romanoff. She was the best friend he’d found since coming out of the ice, but one of the things he’d learnt very early on was that she wasn’t the sort of person you would want as your enemy. That said, she made a fiercely loyal friend, and she usually intuitively knew what Steve was thinking. Sometimes it was unnerving.

“So, how many guys have you been with?”

Steve’s jaw flew open, and he couldn’t form any words to reply. That was _not_ the direction he thought this conversation was going to take. He felt his breathing get heavier and his cheeks grow hot. The question was so forward, so personal. If anyone but Nat had asked, he would have either walked away or changed the subject. But Steve knew neither of these would work with her. Besides, he wasn’t sure whether the answer he was going to give was considered a good thing or a bad thing. One thing he’d learnt about things in the future was that values seemed to have changed. A lot. The amount of time between the question being asked and his silence was becoming uncomfortable.

Natasha sighed. “How many guys have you _dated_ then?”

Steve just lowered his head. Even for his time, this one wasn’t the right answer, he was sure.

“Wait… did you used to date girls?”

This time, Steve managed to shake his head. And kept shaking it like he couldn’t stop. He started smirking, then laughing and he didn’t even know why. He knew Nat had already figured it out by the time he met her eyes again. She simply shrugged at him.

“So you’re a virgin. Doesn’t mean you can’t talk to guys, ok big guy?”

Forget his face, Steve felt himself blushing from head to toe. This conversation definitely crossed the line of _not okay_ yet here Nat was, patiently and calmly talking to him as if he was a small child. He was thinking more along the lines of _never dated_ or maybe at a stretch _never kissed anyone._ Anything more than that? It had crossed his mind, but he always stopped those thoughts before they started.

“Look Steve, your biggest problem is you’ve gotta relax. Let them see the nice guy hiding inside.” Nat gently ruffled Steve’s hair, and he immediately slapped her hand away and started to fix it. She eyed him carefully. Steve looked a mess and he knew it. He wished more than anything that he could freeze time, find a way to get to know this DJ guy without wrecking everything.

“You’re gonna beat yourself up over it if we don’t go back down there, right?”

Steve looked at the ground again, nodding.

“Look, just follow my lead. We’ll dance, and you’re _not_ going to stare at him in that lovestruck yet horrified way again, _okay?_ ”

“I didn-“

“You _did_. Just trust me, alright?”

Almost against his will, Steve found his feet shuffling after Nat, heading back downstairs. He looked up at the posters adorning the walls. His breath hitched slightly as he saw a poster advertising “DJ Bucky”. He slowed his steps, checking to see if it was him. The poster showed his name in what was considered “retro” text at the top, with a picture of a man wearing headphones and… oh. The hair fell messily down, and there was the back of DJ Bucky wearing nothing but a pair of form-fitting booty shorts and knee high boots. It was… definitely him. The picture was stylised and edited but Steve could tell the guy had a great body. Not something he normally looked for but… he could appreciate that, right?

Bucky… his name was Bucky. Or at least his dj name was Bucky. He followed Nat downstairs with a spring in his step. She laughed and led him by the hand to an area in the middle of the dance floor. Still in clear view of the dj booth, but there was a bit more space to move. To Steve’s surprise, she wasn’t teaching him a new dance tonight, but they were going through the motions of one he had nearly mastered. She leant over and shouted in his ear.

“We’re trying to impress him, not make him pity you.” She winked then held Steve’s face so he kept looking at her. Every part of his body was buzzing, as though he could feel’s Bucky’s eyes boring into him. For all he knew, Bucky wasn’t even looking. This was probably all for nothing. He closed his eyes, centring his focus. He and Nat laughed and danced for a couple of songs before Steve stole a glance at the booth. Bucky was scanning the crowd, and their eyes locked for a second. Bucky smirked, then put his head back down, hair covering his face. Steve used every ounce of self control left in him to turn back to Nat and keep dancing. He wasn’t going to screw this up. He wasn’t. He probably already had. He probably never stood a chance with a guy like him… what even was this guy like? Steve didn’t even know. He was thinking too much about this. He tapped Nat on the shoulder and motioned he was going to get a drink. She followed him.

Nat was glaring straight at him as he paid for their drinks, arching an eyebrow at him. He knew. He’d chickened out. He wasn’t ever going to be the alpha DJ Bucky wanted. Alphas knew what they wanted and went for it, right? Everyone had been surprised when he discovered his designation. He’d been thin, small, too polite for his own goddamn good, and too scared to tell everyone what he was. If alpha stereotypes were to be believed, he should’ve been out there claiming whatever piece of omega ass he wanted. Instead he’d shied away, quite frankly terrified someone would discover what he was _like,_ what he was _into_ , and murder him in his sleep or something. He’d heard the stories. People like him… never lasted long.

Steve had gotten into a lot of fights after that. Everyone put it down to alpha hormones, completely oblivious to the fact that Steve was getting increasingly frustrated with his own identity and orientation. Most of the guys he picked on were much bigger than him. They were always alphas. Steve never dared to even look at betas or omegas for fear he’d… well. He could never act on that, so why even bother looking? And after the serum, when he finally looked more like something people looked for in alphas, he was constantly switched on to his surroundings, still adjusting to his new body. There simply wasn’t enough space to think about what he wanted. At that point, all he wanted was to survive.

Out there on the dance floor, that same survival instinct had kicked in. He was terrified. He didn’t want to talk to Nat about this. His eyes scanned to the other end of the bar, and wouldn’t you know it, there was DJ Bucky ordering a drink. Must be a break in his set. Suddenly talking to Natasha seemed like an excellent idea, but Steve couldn’t draw his gaze away from Bucky, the way his slightly sweaty hair fell messily around his face, the way his lips wrapped around the bottle of beer he was drinking. Steve cast his eyes downward, and when he looked up, Bucky was staring at him, eyes raking hungrily over his whole body. Bucky bit his lip slowly and stared pointedly at Steve’s trousers. Steve suddenly felt very exposed; this was wrong. Blushing in self consciousness, he turned away, and by the time he turned back around, Bucky had gone.

Nat nudged him, leading him back to the dance floor. Steve figured she’d seen that whole exchange; it just made him blush deeper. That stuff was _private_ , not the kind of thing you did in public. Normally by this point Steve would be so horrified he’d have left the bar, but there was something about Bucky that kept drawing him back in. Stupid, really, they were clearly incompatible. But there was an intrigue there that Steve just couldn’t shake. He went back to dancing with Nat, trying to ignore the way Bucky had been staring at him. He made a point of not looking at the dj booth _once_ during the next set, which seemed to be going a lot longer than the last one. Still, he’d had the reprieve of upstairs for part of the last set, and everything was still too loud and too crowded and too full of thoughts of Bucky.

Suddenly, the sound of loud feedback interrupted his thoughts. Bucky was speaking.

“Hey! Thanks for having me and spending your Saturday night with me.” He stopped and winked at Steve pointedly. “Uhh, I’ll be doing gigs at...” Bucky started listing off places; they meant nothing to Steve and he found himself zoning out and eyeing off Bucky, the way he moved, the shy way he addressed the crowd. “Enjoy the rest of your night!”

Well, Nat had been wrong. They didn’t have to wait until the end of the night. It was now or never. Though Steve was seriously contemplating never. Bucky started packing up his gear, and Steve disappeared off to the bar again, not noticing that Nat wasn’t behind him. He put in the usual order, expecting Nat to protest him buying them two rounds in a row, and gasped softly. She wasn’t there. He saw the red head sitting on the edge of the booth, conversing casually with Bucky. She smiled and gave him a big wave, jumped down from the booth and came up to him. Nat grabbed her drink off Steve and murmured in his ear.

“He obviously fancies you, just go talk to the guy.”

Steve gulped down the rest of his beer and slowly started making his way through the crowd. He got about halfway to the dj booth where Bucky was packing up the last of his equipment when he was cut off by a group of people. They walked up to Bucky and started hugging him, and one guy slapped his ass. Bucky turned to the guy and grinned, pulling him into a huge embrace. Steve was frozen to the spot, torn between how beautiful this guy was when he smiled, and the way this other guy was looking at Bucky. After a few seconds, Steve registered that Bucky and this new guy were still hugging, and the new guys hands were all over him. Well, that was that I guess. Steve ran out of the bar, and didn’t look back.


	2. A National Icon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky can't believe he saw Captain America eyeing him off. How can he convince him that nothing was going on between him and Brock?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a different tone when we're inside Bucky's head... and a lot more swearing.

Bucky Barnes had never been one to _need_ an alpha in his life. He prided himself on his ability to tease them and get whatever he wanted, including the dj gigs he’d been doing recently. He’d been desperate to work since graduating and if djing was the only work he could get, he’d take as much as he could get; he had to pay the bills somehow. If he had to bat his eyelashes and dress provocatively to do it, so be it. Bucky had never been backward in asking for what he wanted in life, but most of the alphas he met were intimidated by the real him. They only liked the act he put on where he’d be sickly sweet and seemingly compliant, losing interest when he’d back off and not give them what they wanted as easily as they felt he should.

He’d met Brock Rumlow by accident. He’d been going to enquire about some dj work at the series of clubs his uncle owned. Alex Pierce was an alpha; Bucky had heard his reputation and dressed accordingly. He wasn’t going to sleep his way into getting the gigs, but if the alpha thought that he’d get that payment later, that was his loss as far as Bucky was concerned. His roommate Clint was a digital artist, and had made up some posters that were the right mix of provocative, retro, and kind of showcased Bucky in a way that was almost unnerving.

“You sure this is gonna work, Clint? Jeez, they’re a bit much aren’t they?”

Clint looked at him levelly. “You want the work, you know how to work yourself to get anything you want. This just shows off that side of you. But I didn’t want it to be just that. You should be getting in on your real merits; that mix of retro stuff you do and the colours definitely represent the music styles you’ve been going for lately. If the sex sells, then sex sells. But if someone just saw the real artist you are, then I want to make sure that’s represented too.”

Clint had nailed it, as always. Bucky cooked dinner for them both that night as a thank you. Finding another omega who wasn’t a pushover was pretty hard to find, and Clint was a pretty awesome roommate, all things considered. They’d often work out together, and back in the day, study together too. Their friendship had developed from there, based on a series of experimental cooking (there was a reason Bucky usually cooked; Clint was often disastrously adventurous) and trash tv, they’d become really close.

Bucky swept into the venue like he already worked there, muscle top and short shorts with expensive trainers on. The usb with his latest mix in his pocket, he headed in the direction of the back offices.

“Hey sugar, can I help you with something?”

The voice belonged to a young man, tall, alpha, intimidating. Bucky smiled brightly, and gave the man a wink, casually taking him in completely, assessing.

“Yeah, I’m looking into some dj work,” Bucky said cheerfully. “I was hoping to drop my mix for Alex Pierce?”

Bucky bit his lower lip, and licked it quickly. It was a nervous habit, but he was well aware of the effect and intent it showed. The alpha sauntered up to him, standing far too close for someone he’d just met. Bucky forced himself to be calm and collected as the alpha scented the air. The predatory look on his face was hard to ignore, and Bucky fought down his instinct to run. He smiled at the alpha, and held out his hand to shake, strategically putting some distance between their bodies.

“I’m DJ Bucky, mostly worked the college circuits but looking for something new. Thought it’d be a good chance to…” Bucky paused to run his tongue along his lower lip “…uhh, meet new people?” He let his hair fall over his face, looking shyly at the alpha. Internally, he smirked as he saw it was working.

The alpha immediately reached for his hand, pulling him back in closer. Bucky could smell his arousal; at this rate the alpha was going to go into rut just looking at Bucky.

“Brock Rumlow, I’m Pierce’s nephew.” Jackpot, he was already in with the family.

“I can, umm, drop my things for him to look over later, if he’s busy?” Bucky made himself look shy and meek; it was working.

“Yeah, yeah… that’d be great.”

Bucky took his time leaning over the bag where his poster was, being sure to turn his body away from the alpha. The scent from the alpha was disgusting, and Bucky fought back a shudder, careful not to point his ass directly at him. He gave a grin as he handed the rolled up poster to him, waiting for Brock to look at it before giving the usb, and his phone number (shit, he’d have to give this creep his number). Brock unfurled the poster and let out a low whistle.

“Well well well, _very_ nice.” The way Brock emphasised the word _nice_ was anything but. Bucky smirked at him coyly, carefully tightening the fabric on his shorts as he reached into the pocket to pull out the usb. He felt the alpha’s eyes raking over him. He took a moment to assess the alpha; carefully keeping his expression bright, but mentally noting that while the guy looked like he worked out, Bucky would be more than capable of dealing with him if the need arose. Good. He handed the usb to him, carefully placing it into the palm of the alpha’s hand, deliberately lingering on the contact for a split second longer than he needed to.

The alpha smirked as he saw the omega looking at him. “You’re gonna need to uhh, give me a way of contacting you if my uncle’s _interested_ you know.”

Bucky let his lips twitch, and looked shyly at the alpha again.

“Would, uhh, my number be okay?” Bucky deliberately mimicked the alpha’s _uhh_ , carefully not mocking but trying to mirror. He reached into his pocket again, pulling out the strategically placed piece of paper and pen, quickly scribbling it down for Brock. He drew a little smiley face on there too; Brock’s type always fell for that cutesy bullshit.

“More than okay, doll.” _Doll?_ Ugh. Bucky reached out his hand to shake again.

“Well… uhh, _hopefully_ see you soon Brock?” Bucky looked at the alpha hopefully. This part was genuine at least; while he had no desire to see this man again in his life, if he did at least it meant he was employed. The scent in the air was making him feel nauseous, he had to wrap this up quickly.

“Counting on it, sugar.”

Bucky grinned and turned to leave. As soon as he was clear of the building and the scent of the alpha, he turned into an alleyway and vomited violently.

* * *

Of course Captain Fucking America turns up to his first gig. Like he wasn’t dealing with enough shit on his first night, with keeping an eye out for Brock, Alex Pierce literally greeting him by slapping his ass, hoping he’d remembered all his equipment… in walks Mr Perfect. Well, fuck. Thank goodness he’d played this set a few times on campus because he was going to be distracted tonight, it would seem.

If anyone had asked Bucky, he would vehemently deny any interest in the Captain. All that good old fashioned American alpha bullshit was everything Bucky would argue for hours on end that he despised, yet if anyone were to install cameras in Bucky’s bedroom, the thing he got off on the most was Fucking Steve Rogers. Or the idea of Steve Rogers fucking him, more accurately. In Bucky’s imagination, Captain America was not the type to come up and take what he wanted until he was asked to. And in he walks halfway through the first set, staring at Bucky like he’s actually somebody. Not like how Brock had been looking at him, like a piece of meat… no, Steve Rogers looked a mixture of terrified and enamoured. Like Bucky had taken his breath away. And that was something Bucky was more than capable of playing into.

He winked at the Captain, grinning. Seeing the shocked expression on his face only spurred Bucky on further as he leant over to look at his phone, pointing his ass straight at him. If there was ever an invitation, surely that was it. Bucky looked over his shoulder to see if his little show had had any effect, only to find the national icon blushing furiously. Bucky grinned and winked at him, knowing his groundwork was done for the night. He saw Black Widow pull him away. That might present a problem. Trying not to overthink things, he fell back into dancing to the beat, spinning tracks and hoping Brock hadn’t arrived yet. One member of that family was enough to deal with.

Seeing the Captain follow Widow back onto the dancefloor was amusing. Clearly she’d been giving him some sort of pep talk and he was doing exactly what she was telling him to. Not exactly asshole alpha behaviour. Bucky was more than alright with this. When Cap turned to look at him, Bucky smirked, hiding behind his hair, genuinely a little shyly this time. What the fuck was his life where Captain America, _National Icon Captain America_ was scared to talk to some dj with an engineering degree? _Fuck, he’d scared him off again_. At least it was the last song of his first set; he’d have an excuse to follow him to the bar soon.

He couldn’t be _that_ obvious though, so he headed for the opposite end of the bar to a dejected looking star spangled alpha. _Fuck, he was going to have to be a little more blatant._ He ordered a beer and took a sip, turning to look at the Captain. He let his eyes wander all over the Captain’s body, much like he’d seen every alpha do to him over the years. He let his gaze fall to the other man’s trousers, in an obvious show of what he was looking for. _Shit, imagine Captain America actually fucking him tonight_. Maybe he overdid it. The Captain looked terrified, conflicted. He was due back for the second half of his gig anyway.

Bucky actually forgot about Captain America after the first few minutes as Brock made his appearance. Imagine if he actually managed to pull Cap… the expression on Brock’s face would be so worth it. But then again… Bucky was going to have to play this cool. If Brock sensed that he wasn’t going to get anything out of the omega, Bucky might well be about of a job again. Sighing internally, he winked at Brock, relieved to see the Captain wasn’t looking. But not relieved. _Why was the Captain ignoring him now?_

When the set finally ended, Bucky was surprised to see Widow walking towards the booth. He focussed on packing up his equipment, meticulously packing away each piece.

”You know, my friend really wants to ask you out, but he’s kind of rubbish at talking to guys. Or relating to this century. You know how it is.”

Widow was perched on the edge of the booth. Bucky smirked.

“If he sees something he likes, he should come and get it,” Bucky nearly purred. He was conflicted by the idea of someone _asking him out_. He wasn’t really big on relationships, or dating in general. But the idea of Captain America wanting him in any capacity was kind of a huge fucking deal. And it would seem his assessment of the Captain as not being the kind to just come and take was accurate. Nice to know when he’d been jerking off he’d been on the right track there.

Widow smirked back at him. “You’d have to play gentle with him though. I mean it when I say he’s shy with guys. Some might find it cute but…” Widow trailed off thoughtfully as she looked to the bar. Smiling and waving, she jumped down and headed off to the Captain.

 _Shit._ Captain America was some shy guy who probably was pretty backward when it came to interactions with omegas. Maybe he should’ve paid more attention in designation class in high school; the history of dynamics could actually be relevant now. Bucky started to give himself an internal pep talk as he saw the Captain stand up at the bar.

Suddenly, there was Brock in front of him. Fuck, Bucky had forgotten all about him. He’d brought a bunch of friends who seemed every bit as unsavoury as the alpha himself. Bucky smiled at the group broadly, trying not to vomit or let his emotions show as Brock came in to embrace him. _Fuck, he wasn’t letting go._ Bucky giggled softly, pressing his hand against Brock’s chest to try and get some space.

“Nice set, baby.”

“Really?” Bucky looked up wide-eyed and hopeful. Again, not much of an act. While he had some gigs lined up through Pierce, they were only a handful and a lot was riding on his success tonight.

Brock looked at him hungrily. “Want a drink, sugar?”

Bucky modelled his face into something that roughly resembled regretful.

“Would if I could, gotta get my stuff loaded first. And gotta see about a gig in the morning… but are you going to be at the other place Thursday night?” Bucky tried his best to look hopeful, keep his scent neutral. He realised with horror that when he’d been eyeing off the Captain before, he’d been leaking slick. Well fuck.

Brock inhaled deeply, and grinned at Bucky devilishly. “Well, if you need help with anything in the meantime… give me a call.” Brock winked at Bucky, finally releasing him from his grip. Bucky breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment before realising it looked like he was trying to get himself under another sort of control. He giggled at Brock, and nodded. Bucky scanned the club but was disappointed to see the Captain had left. Well fuck, he’d probably seen him with Brock and thought he was just a cocktease. Way to fucking blow it. Or _not_ blow it as it turned out.

* * *

Bucky was bleary-eyed as he prepared his coffee. It was 6am but he’d barely slept. When he’d gotten home from the club, he’d headed straight for his room, thoughts of a national icon filthily filling his mind. He prayed Clint was asleep as he set up scent diffusers. He’d gotten off about four times yet still didn’t feel sated enough to sleep. He hadn’t felt so frustrated since he was a teenager and he’d presented as an omega. Captain America better not be inducing his heat; his suppressants were meant to take care of that. He hadn’t gone through a heat since he was eighteen and old enough to be prescribed suppressants, but this feeling was something he hadn’t felt before. Maybe he’d feel better if he went for a run. Bucky downed his coffee in one gulp, slid off his slick-soaked underwear, shuddering at the gross sticky feeling. He quickly threw on a pair of running shorts and a tank top, scribbling a note for Clint and heading out the door, nearly tripping his way into the hall as he got his shoes on and scooped his hair up into a messy ponytail.

Ever since he’d presented, Bucky had made a big show of shrugging off stereotypes of what an omega could be. He’d always been in good physical shape, but the level and nature of interest he gained as an omega had always been unsettling, so he’d made it his mission to be stronger, faster, smarter in a fight than any alpha, should the need come up. He worked out nearly every day, muscles strong, body lean and fast. He was trained in five different styles of martial arts, and dancing had become a passion of his in recent years. Bucky had reached a point in his life where the things he did to stay in shape were as much a joy as a necessity. And it always surprised an alpha when he could outmatch them. Particularly the Brocks of the world. Bucky wished he could find some kind of better work so he wouldn’t have to deal with him much longer. That was the problem with this dj business; not only was the work sporadic and unreliable, but he often changed venues because pretty much every single one of them had a Brock of some kind.

But if there were more alphas like Steve Rogers in the world… then maybe he’d be more willing to go along with whatever they wanted. Bucky started his run at a relatively quick pace this morning, surprised when his energy levels stayed high. The fuck was this? Some teenage crush? I mean, fuck, yes, he always had been, but still. It was shameful the number of times Bucky had fantasised about the Captain, but nothing like last night. Yet Bucky, fool that he was, had let the Captain slip through his fingers when he’d been eating out of the palm of Bucky’s hand. Maybe a faster run was what he needed to start to forgive himself for that.

After about half an hour of running, Bucky found himself starting to calm a bit. That was another joy of keeping fit; the way it managed to ground him and keep him focussed. He pulled out his hair tie, and fixed his hair which was falling into his eyes. He was still kicking himself for missing a chance to fuck the ultimate national icon, if he was honest. All because of asshole Brock Rumlow, too. Bucky shrugged. It wasn’t like national icons came waltzing into clubs all the time; that’d probably be the last he’d see of him. Shame. It felt like unfinished business. He picked up his pace again, noticing a couple of betas out for a morning stroll staring at him. Well shit, he’d forgotten underwear and he knew what that made him look like in shorts. Shit, that hadn’t been intentional. Bucky bit his lower lip, worried for a minute before sucking it up and keeping on running, trying to ignore anyone that came his way.

After about ten more minutes, Bucky noticed it was starting to get busier. More people were staring at him. Fuck. He bent over to re-tie his shoelaces, grounding himself and willing himself not to panic. He inhaled deeply, and was immediately hit by the most intoxicating scent. His body felt warm and tingly, every cell dancing with life, like fireworks going off and the most beautiful music playing. Almost unwillingly, he turned his body towards the scent. Standing there staring at Bucky was the Captain. Dressed in a too-tight white t-shirt and tracksuit pants, he shouldn’t even be legal looking like that. Bucky inhaled sharply. The Captain started muttering an apology and turned to run away.

“Hey!”

The Captain froze to the spot at the sound of Bucky’s commanding tone. Well, this was going to be fun.

“You left in a hurry last night.”

The Captain stared at the ground, looking ashamed. The Widow had said gently, right? Gently wasn’t really Bucky’s forte, but at least that intoxicating scent wasn’t moving away from him anymore. Shit, if he’d scented that last night he probably would’ve jumped on the Captain in the middle of the dancefloor. He willed his body not to give himself away too readily, but his head was buzzing and he felt sort of… floaty.

The Captain cleared his throat. “I’m… Steve.” He held out his hand tentatively. Bucky rushed in to grasp it firmly, every fibre of his being moving into the skin-on-skin contact, even if it was just their hands.

“Bucky.” For once, he smiled genuinely, and Steve, for all his bravado as Captain America, seemed to appreciate Bucky taking the initiative. The Captain’s eyes turned downwards shyly, settling on... oh fuck. The Captain started blushing.

“If you’re gon’ta get an eyeful, might as well get my number,” Bucky said a little brusquely, cursing himself for sounding like that and cursing himself more for how obviously he was tenting in his shorts. The Captain, no… wait, _Steve,_ stammered something resembling an apology, saying he was sorry and he was ashamed he did that… and ran off. Fuck. That was the exact opposite of what Bucky wanted. If it’d been anyone else with that scent, you can bet Bucky would’ve been chasing them down. But this was Captain America. Everyone knew how fast he was and there was no way Bucky’d be able to catch him. Cursing under his breath, he knew that was the end of that. But that scent? Holy shit. Bucky ran back home to his apartment instead, cursing all the way.

When he got in the front door, he was greeted by Clint and the smell of pancakes. He probably looked a wreck, and if he’d been leaking before he was probably flooding his shorts now. Clint raised an eyebrow at him.

“Fucking national icons,” Bucky muttered, heading straight for the shower.

* * *

When Monday morning came, Bucky was surprised to see a message left on his phone. The job agency he’d signed up for had arranged an interview with Stark Industries for him at 11am. It was just a maternity leave position, six months but… this could be his foot in the door, a chance to finally kick start his career. He hopped in the shower, grabbed some breakfast and checked through his portfolio. Fortunately he’d woken early, giving himself some time to put together a decent outfit and check over everything before heading to Stark Tower… _fuck. Where Capt-… where Steve lived_.

“So, how’s Captain America’s Omega this morning? All dressed up with nowhere to go?”

“Fuck off Clint,” Bucky grunted. He’d caved and told Clint everything yesterday, and he was already deeply regretting his decision. Clint could be a great friend, but this morning Bucky just wasn’t in the mood for his shit. And he certainly wasn’t telling him where his job interview was, no sir. Bucky swept out the door, willing himself to stay calm and hopefully avoid the nervous alpha… at least until his interview was over.

The amount of security surrounding Stark Tower was humbling, to say the least. He’d been security checked three times, and he was sure there were scans and hidden cameras and who knew what else. He was accompanied into the elevator by one of the security personnel. He didn’t even know which floor he was being taken to. When the elevator pinged, he found himself in a laboratory. And surely that wasn’t…

“Tony Stark, pleasure to meet you Mr Barnes. If your resume is even 40% true I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of you around Stark.” The way Tony moved was confident and self-assured and Bucky immediately felt uneasy and inadequate. 40 percent true? What if Tony had looked at the wrong resume? Tony led him into a small room off to the side, where three other people formed the rest of the panel interviewing him for the position. It was an engineering position, and once Bucky got to talking about his experience in the field, his nerves vanished. The conversation was stimulating and this working environment could well be his dream job. He felt more and more at ease as the interview wore on, shaking Tony’s hand firmly upon leaving the small room.

“We’ll get back to you within the week,” Tony said brightly. Bucky smiled softly, nodding. Shit, if he could land this job…

“I trust you can see yourself out,” Tony added, pushing the button for the elevator. They waited together as Stark had to authorise Bucky to leave the building, and while he could speak to the AI from anywhere, he probably wanted to check Bucky either didn’t get lost or go wandering.

The elevator doors pinged open, and Bucky was hit by a familiar scent. _Fuck._ He’d made it through the interview and things were looking promising and now it was all going to hell in a handbasket because he couldn’t keep his hindbrain in check. He nearly doubled over before realising, to some relief, that the elevator was empty. But there was no doubt as to who had just been in there.

Tony hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting…” he muttered to himself, pulling out his phone and tapping away quietly.

“JARVIS, take Mr Barnes to reception please.”

Bucky said goodbye to Mr Stark once more and the elevator doors closed. Bucky doubled over, sinking to the floor and groaning. The scent of _Steve_ was everywhere, and it was driving him insane. Wait, he was going to reception, right? Bucky quickly pulled a piece of paper from his bag and scribbled a note on it hurriedly. So he was thinking with his hindbrain. So he’d probably fucked up the biggest career breakthrough of his life. So shoot him. He wasn’t done with _Steve_ yet.

The elevator doors pinged and Bucky stepped out, walking purposefully to the desk in reception instead of straight to the exit. A young receptionist looked up at him, clearly surprised.

“Hi, I have a message that needs to be passed on to Mr Rogers, please. Let him know it’s regarding something he forgot yesterday.” Bucky left the note with his phone number on it and walked out, hoping he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.


	3. The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve begins to address some things about the future. Mostly though, he can't stop thinking about Bucky.

Natasha smirked and huffed a small breath of air out her nose as she read the text on her phone, then began to furiously type a response. Steve finished making his protein shake and went to sit beside her on the couch. He wasn’t going to tell Nat about how little sleep he’d had the past couple of nights, so he had to act as naturally as possible.

“Someone special?” he asked teasingly, eyebrows raised. It wasn’t often Natasha would get a genuine smile like that when texting. Usually it was all badass spy. All business.

“Tony,” she replied. She continued tapping into things at a relentless pace for about two minutes before texting Tony again. Steve turned on the tv, hoping not to get some biting remark about the dj as a response. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Bucky… the way he’d looked, the way he’d moved, the way he’d _smelled_ … He closed his eyes for a moment, grounding himself. This was _his_ apartment, but Natasha had made it into her second home, and right about now, Steve could use a few minutes to himself. Not that he’d _dare_ kick her out.

“My Little Pony? I mean, I know you’ve got catching up to do but surely that’s too cutesy even for you.”

Steve jerked his eyes open and jumped about three feet in the air. He hadn’t even noticed what was on the tv when he turned it on, and was horrified to see a cartoon about ponies. He quickly changed the channel, smiling sweetly at Natasha.

“Sounds like you’re familiar?”

Natasha smirked at him, glancing him up and down once. Steve knew that look. That look meant some serious shit was about to go down. The ping of Natasha’s phone distracted them both. Natasha stood up, moving towards the door.

“Got some business to talk to Tony about. Oh. And you might want to check in with reception. I hear there’s a message for you.” She winked, then marched out the door before Steve had a chance to reply.

Reception? They only took internal messages… not that Steve really knew anyone who didn’t either work or live in this building. Clearly this was some sort of game to Natasha and he swore, if she was trying to set him up with someone who worked here… Steve decided the humiliation of going down to see reception and Nat seeing his reaction to… whatever had her smiling like that… wasn’t worth it. He spoke confidently as he addressed the AI.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers? How may I be of service?”

“Natasha said there’s a message for me at reception?”

“Ah, yes sir. A young man by the name of James Buchanan Barnes came for an interview earlier and left you a message. Would you like me to retrieve it?”

Steve scratched his head. The name wasn’t familiar. That was strange. And an interviewee? A mad Captain America fan? Some random member of the public? A stalker?

“Please,” he said softly to the AI, wondering who on earth was leaving him messages.

* - * - *

Steve was staring at his phone like it was going to bite him when Natasha walked back in.

“I take it you haven’t texted him yet?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, coming to sit beside him at the table. The note Bucky had written was sitting beside the phone, and Steve was ashamed to say he’d sniffed at it more than once.

_Hey Steve,_

_You never ended up getting my number. Too fast for me to catch you ;) If you’re still keen drop me a message._

_Bucky_

Steve groaned. He had no idea what the etiquette was surrounding texting someone yet. Nat had a very direct and unique style and there were few others who bothered texting him. Plus the tone of that letter… Steve still wasn’t sure exactly what it was that Bucky wanted. I mean… the message he’d been relaying when Steve saw him out running was blindingly obvious but… what exactly were Bucky’s intentions beyond that? What did he want now? Later?

“Steve, you’re overthinking this.”

Steve nodded. He knew. But since the war… it was hard for him to look at situations like this without feeling like he was abusing power or taking advantage. He understood… not everybody saw it that way. But more than the danger, the harrowing grief, the PTSD… there was one thing that he’d seen in war that disturbed him to his very core. Maybe it was time he told Natasha this. The pre-war fear for his life, and what happened while he was fighting too.

His unit, the Howling Commandos, were tight. Vetted to be the best of the best with a wide range of skillsets, they had been handpicked as people Steve could trust with his life. All alphas, save for one. James Montgomery Falsworth was an omega. Which was fine, Steve had no issue with that. Until Monty had approached Steve one night, asking the unthinkable. Steve declined, and didn’t look him in the eye for weeks afterward. If they heard back home, he’d already be dead. If the other Howling Commandos heard, they wouldn’t value his leadership as they should. He couldn’t give in to this. Stoically, Steve pushed his own urges aside in the pursuit of being the best leader he could be.

Steve started to hear whispers. One after another, all the Howling Commandos fell victim to their biological urges. They’d not seen a woman for months, Steve kind of understood that for some alphas who gave in to their primal urges more readily, that was a long time. At first it was just rumour, one of them closer to Monty for a while. As time went by and their locations became more remote, it became more open. The hungry looks the alphas gave him, the way he was shared around as if he was a piece of meat. Sometimes more than one alpha at once. Steve did his best to turn a blind eye to it. Ignoring his own needs, he spoke to each member and asked them to be more discreet after he walked in on Monty with one, or two, or three of them, one time too many.

He wasn’t sure how to approach Monty about it. In the end, it was Monty who approached him.

“Look, I’m sorry this became a thing you have to see. It’s hard to find privacy in war.”

Steve thought back to some of the things he’d seen the past few weeks. What was happening to Monty was… abusive. Aggressive. Wrong. Steve told him as much.

Monty looked hurt for a moment. “But Captain… I _like_ that. And for you? The offer always stands.”

Steve couldn’t see how someone could stand that, and vowed never to be the person dishing that out. As Monty’s commanding officer, there was no way he could abuse his power and mistreat him that way.

* - * - *

Natasha looked like she wanted to wring Steve’s neck.

“How much have you caught up on all that alpha, omega, gender, sex stuff since you got thawed out? Because the one thing I’ll tell you is that nobody _cares_ about your gender _or_ your designation _or if you like things rough and kinky._ Look, if you’re not comfortable talking to me about it…” Natasha indicated Steve’s beetroot-red face “…then ask JARVIS. He can look up a full history for you if it’d make you feel better.”

Natasha’s phone pinged again.

“Anyway, it’ll have to wait. Tony wants to speak to you. In person.”

Steve knew Tony didn’t like to be kept waiting, so he jumped up and out the door. It _definitely_ wasn’t to avoid having a conversation with Natasha. Even if she followed him into the elevator.

“We’re going to get that text written later, too.”

Great.

* - * - *

“Hey, _Back To The Future_ , we need to talk about your little dj friend.”

Steve groaned. First, he could never keep up with Tony’s nicknames, and second of all, it seemed that everyone was determined to talk about Bucky. Well, the guy _had_ come to Tony for an interview, though what Tony wanted with a dj, Steve had no idea. Steve _definitely_ didn’t conjure up images of Bucky that would have his mother turning in her grave. No way.

“Well, engineer-slash-dj.”

Ah. That explained a lot. Steve felt oddly proud that Bucky had other areas he was successful in. He wasn’t quite sure why, there was _nothing_ wrong with being a dj and Bucky was clearly good at it. Too good, maybe. Nat gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

“Look, honestly, Capsicle, the guy is so overqualified it’s ridiculous. Grad school completed, cutting-edge research… he was a model student and the stuff he’s been working on could really be a breakthrough here. He’s damn talented. If I wasn’t well, me, I would’ve been begging him to take on a job here. Chance, too, it was through the agency. Sorry to disappoint you, but him coming to interview here was purely by chance.”

“So… he’s gonna work for you?” Steve couldn’t quite contain the excitement in his voice as his heartbeat quickened and his breathing became shallower. The thought of seeing that gorgeous specimen every day was too much for Steve. He could actually have a feasible chance to get to know him, didn’t have to rush this.

“Well, he gave a perfect interview, seemed like the right fit. Until we got out to the elevator and he scented you. And JARVIS says the guy was practically rolling on the floor when he thought nobody could see him. Your scent is getting stronger – might have to run you by medical – but this guy was seriously gagging for it. I’ve got one engineer off on maternity leave, and I _don’t_ want to make it two. Understood?”

Steve took a while to process this information. One of the things he’d been extraordinarily keen for when he was first thawed out were the supersuppressants the Avengers team got. They were designed to remove any trace of _urges_ , and blocked scent so well that Steve didn’t even know the designation of the others on his team. Of course, they were designed so that they wouldn’t be distractible on missions, no ruts, no heats, no way for others to track them. This couldn’t be more perfect. And they’d been working on him perfectly. He hadn’t even contemplated any of those dark thoughts he used to have. Until this week. He hadn’t been close enough to anyone for the best part of 70 years. But now… after his encounter with Bucky… things were changing. Rapidly. People could scent him. And he was… he was a supersoldier now. He thought of the almost… well… _predatory_ way Bucky had looked at him on the dancefloor and wondered if it was some sort of sick role reversal. And he’d liked it. The alpha in him had been screaming to pursue Bucky, and to do things that… didn’t bear thinking about. Bucky had gotten under his skin and made Steve feel like a stranger in his own body.

Then Tony mentioned pregnancy and Steve flushed, embarrassed. Wait. _Nobody cared about male pregnancies in omegas anymore?_ Back in his day it had been a source of shame, even if biologically they were more than capable. And Tony… Tony thought they were? That he was? That the omega was willing to? He shook his head. No. He wasn’t going to let that happen. Even if it meant never talking to Bucky again, he wasn’t about to mess up this guy’s career, particularly if he was as good as Tony said. He hadn’t been able to shake the thought of him, but Steve concluded it would be best if he left Bucky alone. And his own problem? The sooner he got to medical to sort it out, the better.

* - * - *

Steve had made his excuses about medical to Natasha, to avoid having to text Bucky. He couldn’t. He _shouldn’t._ He… kind of really wanted to. This had to stop. It needed to be dealt with. And if Steve needed to take a detour to his apartment on the way to medical to deal with some biological urges… then nobody needed to know about that. Nobody _should_ know about that. He sincerely hoped JARVIS didn’t record data like that, because it was over an hour later he found himself asking the AI about alpha-omega dynamics, same-sex relationships and _still hadn’t made it to medical._

A lot more had changed than he realised. Yes, the way those men in the clubs had avoided him because he wasn’t forward enough as an alpha had followed a very traditionalist mindset, but there were so many other things that were open possibilities now that Steve couldn’t have even begun to explore back in his own time. There were things that didn’t even have a name back then that were whole groups of people, communities that openly communicated these things. And there were people who burned through suppressants when they met someone they were strongly attracted to, though that was rare. Steve wondered for a moment, but no. He wasn’t going to have anything more to do with Bucky, but Tony would ask questions if he didn’t turn up at medical, and it would be irresponsible of him to assume his own diagnosis there.

He thought of the dreams he’d had the past few nights, vivid and _extremely sensual_ , all starring the dj. The engineer. No. He wasn’t going to dwell on that. Steve stood, his mind made up. He made his way down to medical.

It turned out JARVIS _did_ have data on everything Steve did in his apartment. Steve was just grateful he had a female doctor to talk to; he couldn’t face another male right now. Steve hadn’t noticed that it had been several hours since they’d been expecting him and while he’d been reluctant to explain, JARVIS had filled the medical team in on what they needed to know in his absence. The woman in the room, Dr Sarah Lockman, was an expert in alpha suppressants as well as being a psychiatrist, which Steve learned, was because they thought he was having trouble adjusting to some 21st century values. It was a lot to take in.

Fortunately Dr Lockman started by running some diagnostics. She didn’t start their conversation by talking about anything embarrassing either. Just general health, fitness, mental ability questions. And Steve had been as fine as ever in those respects. Well, except… he hadn’t been sleeping so well. Dr Lockman made a sympathetic noise, and assured him that given his symptoms at the moment, that was perfectly normal. _Good, he didn’t have to explain any further._

* - * - *

It was 10pm by the time they were done, and Steve’s head was spinning with the amount of information he’d gained since that morning. They hadn’t been able to conclude anything from the lab tests yet, but Dr Lockman had held the first of what he assumed was many phychiatrist appointments and he’d spent… the better part of two hours talking about all the things he was struggling to deal with. He hadn’t been able to look at the doctor either during or after the conversation but… he felt better about things, a little. But that was the only silver lining.

He dropped to the ground in the elevator, his stomach clenching, his breathing shallow. Dr Lockman had said he needed to come off his suppressants for a while, otherwise he’d experience adverse side effects to his health. That meant not only was he going to be taken off active duty for the next couple of weeks, but his biology was going to be seriously messed up. He was going to be less in control, and he couldn’t think of anything he desired less than that right now. Control was all he had. He wondered if there was any way to sneak suppressants but… he knew the ones the Avengers took were all uniquely formulated and he had no idea the effects of taking somebody else’s… could prove even riskier than coming off them.

But _Bucky._ He was meant to be the strong one here, stopping anything from happening. If the way his mind and body had been messing with him the past week was what he was like when he was _on_ the suppressants, he didn’t want to know what he’d be like off them. It didn’t bear thinking about. Steve’s mind wandered to thoughts of Bucky’s body, those _obscenely_ skimpy and tight shorts he’d been wearing, his complete lack of shame in showing Steve what he was missing out on. What, now, he could never have.

Steve made his way miserably back to his apartment and slumped on the couch. He rarely swore, but _fuck it_ he thought, and followed up on a suggestion of Tony’s that he’d had in the back of his mind ever since he’d heard it earlier that afternoon, however much he’d _despised_ and _dismissed_ it.

“Hey JARVIS?”

“Yes sir?”

“Can you… umm… find me… earlier… Tony said…”

“If it is porn you’re seeking, after Mr Stark’s comment earlier, I have already catalogued a series of videos for your convenience. The sequence will adjust according to your… preferences.”

“Umm, thank you Jarvis.”

It was going to be a long night. He might as well enjoy it.

* - * - *

It was Thursday and Steve had been pretty much kicked out of his apartment by Natasha. When she found out he’d basically been self-isolating for two days as the suppressants left his system, she rolled her eyes and booted him out the door. So he was going to have _urges._ It didn’t mean he had to act on them. Plus, as she said, the apartment was reeking of alpha and she was going to need to air it out. That… Steve kind of understood. He’d felt himself changing over the past couple of days.

They’d had a phone conversation about Bucky on Tuesday morning. While Natasha firmly disagreed with his belief that leaving Bucky alone was the best thing for both of them, Steve was adamant and Natasha couldn’t change his mind. She warned him about being self-sacrificial and how if the guy was seriously keen enough to risk screwing up a job interview when clearly he wasn’t already working in the field he’d studied for years, that he was clearly as hooked on Steve as Steve was on him. It fell on deaf ears. Bucky deserved a career. Deserved someone who was forward-thinking and progressive and wasn’t going to get hung up on what he should and shouldn’t do.

Steve breathed deeply when he was out of the building. He felt a bit directionless, lost. In the end, he chose to go and get coffee. Seemed harmless enough, plus coffee was so much better nowadays. He decided to have it to go, and went to sit in the park a few blocks away from Stark Tower. For a good fifteen minutes, he slowly sipped his coffee and watched the world go by. He still couldn’t get over how loud and colourful the future was. It was mesmerising. He’d had a few days to process all the information he’d been given and… yeah. He was totally on board with a lot of what the future had to offer. And if he could have that chance with Bucky over again? He’d definitely change a few things. Of course, that could be the alpha hormones talking. Steve shifted on the bench he was sitting on uncomfortably. Maybe he’d be better distracted if he went to the local gym? Dr Lockwood had recommended physical exercise during the transition of coming off his suppressants, and he’d neglected that for longer than he should’ve.

Steve elected to go for a run first. He was still feeling pretty tense and the physical and emotional rollercoaster he’d been on the past 48 hours had been _intense._ He hoped against hope that he wouldn’t see Bucky while out on his run this time. It was foolish to even contemplate it, surely it had just been chance last time, but chance wasn’t something Steve was willing to risk. He maintained a fast pace – even by his standards – and didn’t even stop to look at or acknowledge anyone or anything going on around him. Good. It was a good start. He still felt every bit as antsy as he had before he’d been kicked out of the apartment but… he could compartmentalise this and focus on what he was doing. Gym. That’s where he was heading now. Steve pulled out his phone to check the directions from his current location.

Steve saw a yoga class was due to begin soon. Maybe that would be a good place to start – something calm and relaxing, then he could go for something to burn the extra energy still bouncing around inside him. He stepped inside the gym and scoped the room – out of habit more than interest – and his mouth fell open when he saw Bucky standing on the other side of the room. He was talking to an attractive guy with short spiky hair, body language showing he was relaxed. Bucky laughed at something Attractive Guy said, and Steve looked down, noticing there was writing printed across the crotch of his sweatpants. STOP LOOKING AT MY DICK, they read, and Steve blushed, looking up, just in time to see Bucky lock eyes with him.

Right. This guy thought Steve wasn’t answering him because he wasn’t interested. It didn’t take a genius from the future to figure out Bucky felt jilted. The fire in Bucky’s eyes was something else. He looked like he positively _despised_ Steve, was looking at him like he wanted him to burst into flames there and then. Steve kind of wanted that too, but instead headed for the door as quickly as he could.

* - * - *

Steve got back to Stark Tower and spent a few hours in the gym there before heading up to the apartment. Going out had been a big mistake, and he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of loss. It was utterly ridiculous, he’d first laid eyes on Bucky less than a week ago.

He cried himself to sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's sweatpants really exist. You can view them here:  
> https://store.pizzaslime.com/products/stop-looking-at-my-dick-sweatpants


	4. High Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky struggles with a lot of things. Including his own choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Bucky nearly lets things get out of control with Brock.

Bucky sat on his bed, conflicted. It’d definitely been an interesting few days. From the moment he’d left the interview, he’d been hanging for that reply text he was sure was coming. By Monday night, he wondered whether he’d blown both the job and his chance with Steve. Tuesday he’d been offered the job by Mr Stark which was… amazing. Finally. What he’d wanted to do for years and with one of the leading companies in the world. Yet… he wondered. Had his message been passed on? Did they know he’d written it? What would he do if they found out? And as it turned out, probably all for nothing. No matter how many times he’d checked his phone there was… nothing. He knew it was a long shot, but the guy had clearly been interested, no matter how shy he was. And Bucky knew he’d done all he could. If the guy wasn’t going to take the initiative now, that was that.

The job didn’t start until next week and Bucky held his breath, waiting to be told they’d changed their mind. That his conduct had been unprofessional. That his note would be discovered, or reported. Surely the AI was aware? A small voice in his head wondered if Steve knew he’d gone for the job, if he was protecting him. Bucky’s dick twitched at the thought, his cheeks flushed. That’d be a nice fantasy for later, protective Captain America. But the chances of that? Pretty fucking slim. He needed to snap out of this.

It was Tuesday night, and when Clint came home from his freelancing job Bucky had already ordered pizza and beer. If he acted like he had the job he’d been offered, celebrated it, maybe nothing would be discovered to interfere with that. He also knew he’d have a hard fucking time hiding from Clint who he worked for, so he might as well get that conversation out of the way early on. He’d ordered a ton of pizza, so at least he’d have the time to work up to that while Clint stuffed his face. Bucky could definitely play this cool. He was going to downplay it. Easy. No problem.

“What’s the occasion?” Clint grinned, sniffing the air. “I smell all the pizza and it’s a Tuesday. Is this why you were all dressed up yesterday?”

Bucky smirked. “Engineering job. Maternity leave but guaranteed for six months at least. And that’s a foot in the doo-“ Bucky was cut off as Clint embraced him, practically squishing him. Bucky chuckled. Yeah, it was a fucking good feeling. He’d been waiting so damn long for this. He was glad to share that success with Clint. He just hoped he made it until Monday.

“Who’s it with? Gonna be good on your CV?” Clint patted Bucky on the back.

“Uhh… Stark.”

Clint’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, you mean you’d be working in the same building as-“

“Drop it, Clint. It’s a dead end.” All the spark had gone from Bucky’s eyes, his voice dejected.

Clint looked at Bucky for a moment, puzzled, but knew better than to pursue it then. But Bucky could see it in Clint’s eyes; this wasn’t over. He sighed, and went over to the fridge.

“It doesn’t start ‘til Monday, and your job is done for the week, right?”

Clint nodded.

“Then let’s get wasted.”

* - * - *

Bucky had spent most of Wednesday afternoon and evening working through his new playlist for Thursday night’s set. He definitely wasn’t looking forward to seeing Brock and he’d cased out the club; pretty seedy and not in a good area of town. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold off the alpha’s advances without creating a scene. And that would be another strike on his dj employment record. It certainly wasn’t the first time. If things worked out at Stark though… maybe it could be his last. Bucky sent off a quick text. He had an emergency plan. If the emergency contact was in town. A last-ditch attempt to save these dj gigs in the event… the Stark job didn’t work out. Bucky’s skills for self-preservation had been as well-developed over the years as his physical abilities. There was a good reason he’d been as lucky as he had. And he’d only used this particular person… twice before. And not in the past year or so. He felt a little guilty texting them, particularly given the current circumstances. A good backup plan would be needed though. The scent of Brock made him queasy even at a distance.

Clint managed to coax him out of the house on Thursday morning. Bucky had stayed up most of the night working on his set. He could’ve easily recycled a bunch of material he’d already done, but aside from the fact working on it was almost therapeutic, he felt better about his contingency plan in the knowledge he’d put together a killer playlist. At the very least, the merit of his music alone should get him to scrape through without a negative strike with Pierce. Well, he could fool himself into believing that. Pierce was as much a creep as Brock, and Bucky knew if either of them advanced on him, he needed his plan to work or he could be out of two jobs in one week. He only had Thursday and Saturday to get through; if he managed to pull this off, the chance of him being taken as a serious artist and not just some piece of omega eye candy… fuck, who was he kidding? He just needed to get through the gigs, make sure he got paid. With as little fuss as possible.

Bucky smiled as they approached the gym. He’d missed a lot of his physical activity this week. It’d either been interrupted by Steve, by working on his set, or the hangover he’d nursed on Wednesday morning. And Clint had definitely made the right choice by starting with a yoga class. Great way to ease his way back in. And so far, Bucky had been able to avoid the Steve conversation. He was hoping to keep it that way. Clint had been looking at him strangely though. Like he was worried. Bucky knew the Big Conversation was coming, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready yet. He’d chosen his sweatpants for a laugh, and to distract Clint from thinking Bucky was miserably pining away fro Captain America. He wasn’t. _He wasn’t._ Clint let out a barking laugh when he saw the pants Bucky changed into.

“Dude, you haven’t worn those in _ages._ I love it when you wear ‘em, nobody knows what to make of it.” Clint clapped him on that back and Bucky smirked. He liked messing with people. That was the whole point when he’d started his helpless omega act. If it paid the bills, it paid the bills. But the pants were different, it never led anywhere, just fucked with people’s heads. And he definitely needed a pick-me-up before he stated his job at Stark. He was still holding his breath but… it seemed likely to happen now. He chuckled softly.

Clint elbowed him. “Dude, dude… it’s Captain America. And he’s lookin’ at you.”

Bucky laughed “Yeah yeah, sure dude.” Internally, he knew he’d have to have _that_ conversation with Clint soon. He took a deep breath through his nose, and stopped dead. He paled, and drew on every ounce of strength he had not to let out a needy whine. That. Scent. He’d know it anywhere. But it was… stronger? Much stronger. That should be fuckin’ illegal. Bucky felt his knees go weak. Only a couple of seconds could’ve passed since Clint’s statement but _shit_. He was on the verge of losing control. And this guy clearly wasn’t wanting to make a move. Bucky gritted his teeth, cursing himself for reacting so strongly. His eyes glinted angrily as they locked with Steve’s across the room. Steve looking like he needed Bucky. Bucky was about to lose control completely. A brief glance, and Steve walked out of the room again. _Fuck._ Bucky figured he’d looked furious as he fought to regain control… and Steve? Steve looked… hurt? And now he was gone again.

Bucky hit his head against the wall. He really didn’t _get_ Steve. And now he felt like shit. Like he’d gone and kicked a puppy or something. Clint pulled him by the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“We’re gonna talk after class, ok?”

All Bucky could do was nod. His head was still spinning from scenting Steve, and the number of emotions he’d been through in the past thirty seconds was way more than most humans should even be capable of. Bucky went through the motions of yoga class, but his heart wasn’t in it. Usually he’d throw himself into it completely, but the thoughts in his head were so loud and not even yoga could quieten them.

Clint took him out for brunch at a small café around the corner after class. He led them both to a booth in the corner, private and quiet.

“So,” he said, eyes narrowing. “What the _fuck_ was all that about?”

For once, Bucky was lost for words. He didn’t know where to begin explaining what was going on. He put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. How could he tell his best friend that his living, breathing _wet fucking dream_ kept waltzing into his life and behaving as if Bucky was some kind of terrifying monster? He sighed loudly.

“Right. Food first. Then you’re talkin’.” Clint ordered for them both as Bucky was uncharacteristically indecisive.

Talking to Clint didn’t get him anywhere in terms of finding a solution, but it was a relief to finally share with someone else all the shit Bucky’d been through since he took the dj job. He found that once he started and realised Clint wasn’t going to judge him for any of it, the words flowed a lot easier. And once he started, the words kept coming. How he’d been feeling, how conflicting it all was, how confused Steve left him every single time they interacted. Bucky had never been so uncertain of himself in his life. Clint kept urging Bucky not to give up but… Bucky was done. Steve being around was just teasing him now. If the guy wasn’t going to do anything about it, Bucky would rather he had nothing to do with him. His body was still suffering the aftershock of Steve but… he could get over it. He needed to get over it.

* - * - *

Bucky was wearing his fitted black jeans and a simple v neck black tshirt. Well, his less fitted black jeans, though by most people’s standards they were still fitted. His hair was scooped back neatly in a ponytail and… he hadn’t worn anything so nondescript when djing for ages. His backup plan had texted back. He wouldn’t have to beat the shit out of Brock, no matter what happened. He hoped. He wasn’t out to impress tonight, just… to fade into the background and do his job. If Stark hadn’t cancelled yet, then hopefully he wouldn’t need the Pierce gigs for another half a year, at least. He could always take casual gigs on if he could get them without this omega act he put on. The setlist was a combination of the latest tracks all the college kids from the campus around the corner would be listening to, and some of his more obscure tracks that always got the crowd going. It was _safe_ , but he thought neither Brock nor Pierce would know the difference anyway. He breathed evenly as he set up his equipment for the night. Pierce had barely looked at him; Brock wouldn’t be appearing until later. The college students had been steadily filtering in; it was cheap drinks night so it was going to be a big one. And college crowds were pretty easy to please. Cheap booze, catchy tunes… this one was low pressure.

By the time Bucky was halfway through his first set, he’d settled into a rhythm. He was dancing, he was laughing. The college kids were alright. The club might be seedy, but the crowd was pretty good, all things considered. They requested songs, they partied hard, they followed his lead in dance. They cheered, they moved, they drank. There was something about the young crowd that Bucky adored… that passion for life that they lived so fiercely. It was a quality he hoped never to lose himself. He laughed along with the crowd, accepted the drinks they so willingly gave him as if they weren’t one of the poorest crowds he was going to play for… he was loving this. And no sign of Brock yet.

There was, of course, the reassurance that Steve Rogers hadn’t shown up either. _Thank fuck_ , Bucky thought to himself. One encounter a day was more than enough. He was still recovering from the gym incident this morning. His smile wavered a bit as the first set ended and he headed to the bar. A small group quickly pulled him over and started talking animatedly about his set. They were music students and wanted to get into technicalities. Bucky was loving this. He knew his set break was short, but the students were so welcoming and the conversation was intellectually stimulating and… for once, Bucky didn’t feel like he owed anyone anything. These students loved his work, not his image. He headed back to the dj booth, a quick nod to the corner and his backup plan.

He sensed, rather than saw, the moment Brock arrived. He was living his best life, dancing for the group of students that he’d been chatting to, who were in turn leading the crowd. The vibe was amazing, and Bucky almost felt sorry he wasn’t going to have time for as many gigs in the foreseeable future. He’d love to play for this crowd again. At least… until Brock showed up. Bucky scented a change in the air, and unsure as to why, he felt a sense of dread creep in. He turned to look, and sure enough, Brock was sauntering over. Alone, this time. That… wasn’t good. Although if he didn’t have his backup plan, fighting his way out was a lot easier when the alpha bothering him was acting solo.

Bucky gave him a huge grin and a wave, and turned his attention back to the music. He’d deliberately planned this second set to be more technical as it progressed; the opposite to how most of his sets ran. Generally, he loved to show off his skills then relax back into the music, slowly easing off the technicality so he could just enjoy and be part of the music as the crowds flooded the dancefloor late into the set. But knowing Brock was going to show up during his second set, Bucky wanted to have his full attention focussed elsewhere. _One more gig_ , he reminded himself gently. Shit, if he was using his backup plan tonight, what the fuck was he going to do Saturday? Beat the shit out of Brock anyway? Usually he would’ve had a full plan of action to get through the gigs, but since Steve had come onto the scene he’d been somewhat… distracted. That wasn’t like him at all.

He felt Brock’s eyes on him as he continued the set. His newfound friends were cheering him on, and Bucky found himself smiling despite the knot in his stomach that wouldn’t go away. He was secretly pleased to be showing off to the music students; it was like the technical elements were for them, not for Brock. Bucky knew he’d let the situation get out of control with Brock, knew he’d have to play his part, probably go a bit further than he was comfortable to maintain this delicate balance. He closed his eyes, pretending for a moment that Brock was Steve, that it was _Steve’s_ eyes on him, _Steve_ who was going to make a move. _Fuck, if only…_

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Bucky noted that his dance style had subconsciously become more provocative as he thought of Steve. That his cheeks were flushed, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to check his pants because they definitely didn’t feel as dry as they had a minute ago. _Fucking idiot, Brock’s going to think this is all for him now._ Bucky still needed these dj gigs as backup, whatever he was telling himself to the contrary. Even if it was one every now and then while he worked the full time day job, he needed to stay on the scene for when the Stark job dried up. He still needed to keep Brock relatively happy, and that was a difficult balance. 

But he wasn’t going to keep Brock _that_ happy. He stole a glance and saw the predatory grin on the alpha’s face. He nearly threw up as he turned his face away and back to the task at hand. He stole a glance to the corner of the room, though he couldn’t see with the way the lighting was. He just prayed everything would fall into place and that he’d have until Saturday to… worry about Saturday. Hopefully, at this stage, Brock just thought he was nervous. Conflicted would work as well. He could definitely work with that.

The music students cheered loudly again. Bucky grinned and gave them an over exaggerated curtsy. Why did Pierce have to own this one? The vibe was great, the students were amazing. If only some beta or… well, basically anyone who would just leave him alone, owned this place. This was how Bucky had earnt his money on campus during his graduate course, without any of this alpha drama. He used to just spin the records, interact with the crowds. But that was before all the real-world shit had hit. He’d needed to pay bills once his scholarship ran dry. He knew putting on the sweet omega act seemed to consistently work, so he did it. Once. Then another time. And another. Before he knew it, he’d started to believe that was all he was useful for. Nobody had cared about his graduate work, his thesis, his projects. He’d fallen into a trap of seeing himself as worthless, no matter how many times he told himself he was just exploiting all the stupid alphas that only thought with their hindbrain. It had paid off, financially speaking. He’d just never really stopped to think of the cost, the toll it was having on his self-worth.

When his second set ended, Bucky did his usual spiel of advertising his next appearance, and was immediately pounced on by the music students. They led him back to the bar to continue their earlier conversation. Bucky hung out for a round of drinks, then politely excused himself to go pack up his equipment, mentally calculating whether he’d be able to pack up quickly and head back to the students before Brock had his chance to jump in.

No such luck. Bucky finished packing the last of his gear away when he scented Brock. Closely. Brock had put his arms around Bucky from behind, pressing his body against him. Ugh. Alpha boner. Bucky suppressed a shudder and turned to look, but Brock wasn’t stopping to chat tonight. He roughly pushed Bucky up against the wall, and Bucky tensed. His backup plan should be here by now. Brock crowded him into the corner, and leant in. _Fuck, he was going to have to. Brock had moved too fast._

As Brock leant in, Bucky looked wildly around. He could try and beat his way out of this one, but he was effectively pinned into the corner, arms stuck at his sides. His backup plan had either failed, or wasn’t there yet. He could protest, but the look in Brock’s eyes said he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Brock’s scent was already making him turn green, but there was nothing for it. Brock’s lips hadn’t even reached Bucky’s when his tongue was pushing violently at him and Bucky… had to reciprocate. _Fuck._ He was repulsed. Brock reached down and grabbed Bucky’s ass, freeing his arm enough to wrestle free.

Suddenly, Bucky was pulled away from Brock. Roughly. _About fuckin’ time_ , he thought to himself. The man standing between himself and Brock was tall, broader shouldered than even Captain America ( _shit, he really needed to get Steve out of his head_ ) and his shoulder length blonde hair was striking in the scene before him.

“Hands off; he’s mine,” Thor bellowed at Brock.

“We’ve been through this, you and I are OVER!” Bucky played up the pathetic omega, keeping his tone hysterical. His heart was beating far too fast, his legs shaking as the adrenaline of the situation kicked in. He beat helplessly at Thor’s arm muscles, giving the illusion he was angry and disappointed. Thor pulled Bucky by the arm, leading him out of the club and onto the street beyond. Unsurprisingly, given Thor’s size alone, Brock did not follow. He didn’t even protest.

* - * - *

Bucky finished writing his decoy text to Brock, apologising for his “crazy ex.” He breathed a sigh of relief as he hit send.

“You know, you really need to find a job where you don’t need me to do that.” Thor looked at Bucky, his face full of concern. The fact that he actually knew one of the Avengers (Steve didn’t count) was his closest kept secret; not even Clint knew about this one. Bucky looked to the ground, ashamed. Bucky had helped Thor when he’d been stranded on Earth a couple of years ago, and whenever Thor left Asgard to come visit, they always tried to catch up. It had been Thor’s suggestion to use the technique for Bucky to get out of sticky situations where he’d played up his omega to get dj gigs. He hated resorting to it, and now he knew Thor wasn’t impressed either, he felt even worse about it.

“I know… I’ve actually got an engineering job lined up but… it’s temporary.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. “Wait… you wouldn’t be the one Iron Man mentioned?”

Wait, what? Bucky struggled to keep his breathing under control. Not only had that call with Brock been too close for comfort, but now apparently Tony Stark was out talking to intergalatical friends about him, for some reason. How could Bucky have been worth mentioning? Stark had hundreds of employees. Surely he wasn’t anyone special?

“He… mentioned me?” Bucky squeaked his question.

“He mentioned a DJ that is talented at engineering. For some absurd reason, I thought he said he was trying to keep you away from Captain America? He seemed to think you were too valuable, though I’m not quite sure what he meant by that.”

Bucky’s heart started to soar. Then beat extraordinarily quickly. Maybe his gut instinct had been right. Maybe Steve was trying to protect him and his new job after all. Dare he hope? _Fuck, from next week he’d be working in the same building every fucking day._

Bucky shrugged at Thor. “No idea why,” he said, careful to keep his voice even and casual.

Thor shrugged too. “So… Saturday?” Good. Thor had read between the lines and assumed he was needed. That would save Bucky having to find another plan.

Bucky nodded grimly. “It’ll be the last time. Promise.”

Thor surprised Bucky by grabbing both his shoulders and looking into his eyes.

“Promise me, James. Promise me you will give this up. Go back to the college place. You were happier there.”

Bucky sighed. “They only take students.”

Thor looked thoughtful.

“Then I will put in my good word to Iron Man. Hopefully he will keep you. Though why he wants to keep the good Captain away from you, I do not know. We will have to have words about that.”

Bucky bit his lip. He couldn’t tell Thor what to do, but the thought of Thor discussing his little obsession with Steve Rogers… and discussing it with his new boss... that… could only end badly. His cheeks went red, ashamed. This was turning into a mess, and it seemed like everyone knew about it now.

Thor walked Bucky back to the taxi in silence. Bucky farewelled him, with the promise to see him Saturday. Though at this stage, with the amount he had to process, he had no idea how he’d make it to Saturday. At all.


	5. Commando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve starts to come to terms with... a lot of things. Bucky takes some initiative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh I'm so sorry I missed updating last week lovelies, work was pretty hectic and I didn't get the time to sit down and write this - it'd been driving me nuts sitting in my head! I hope this chapter is a good reward for missing a week, hope you enjoy. And thanks for everyone who's commented or left kudos and been so kind <3

Steve woke up on Friday morning with a groan. The sun was only just starting to rise outside his window and while his body was more than ready for the day to begin – even for a run, possibly – he was feeling emotionally drained. One of the things Steve had internally struggled with was that while physically his recovery time was ridiculously fast, it seemed that since he’d taken the serum everything that happened had even more of an emotional toll than it had before. Of course, that could’ve been the war, the crash, the freezing, the future… but deep down Steve knew he wasn’t coping with anything terribly well right now. Maybe he should get up for that run; maybe it’d clear his head. He definitely wasn’t going to think about Bucky. Not even a little bit. Nope. Not at all.

Steve knew he had a couple of hours to kill before his session with Dr Lockman. He was learning all sorts of new words to describe what was going on; words like _triggers_ and _trauma_ that seemed to mean different things now, and words like _PTSD_ that would never have been mentioned in his time. She’d suggested he keep a notebook and start filling it with his thoughts; any thoughts he had. Not for her to analyse but… just for his own use and reference. Steve pulled out the notebook she’d given him; it was a small botany book – lined pages for writing, and blank pages too, the cover a soft tan leather that felt smooth in his hands. The book, as fresh as when Dr Lockman had given it to him yesterday, had that new paper smell to it. Steve inhaled softly; at least that smell hadn’t changed over the years.

Dr Lockman – Steve still couldn’t bring himself to call her Sarah like she asked – had also given him both a pen, and a drawing pencil to go with the notebook. Steve hadn’t really drawn anything since coming out of the ice. Initially, there’d been too much to adjust to, too much going on, the world to save… and by the time things calmed down a bit, Steve felt so lost that he kind of… just forgot about how much joy art had brought him. He sighed softly and picked up the pencil. The weight of it in his hand was familiar, yet foreign. Mindlessly, he began to sketch.

_At 5’4”, Steve was by far the smallest soldier at camp. After so many rejections, he was determined to prove himself. He’d been able to hold his own well enough in a fight; there was no way he was going to sit idly by while there was a war to be won. Besides, if he had a war to distract himself with, there’d be no room left to even think about his sexuality, nobody he’d need to avoid eye contact with in case they could guess it, no avoiding those conversations. War was going to suit him very well._

_He’d been given a few days after talking to Dr Erskine to sort his life out – not that it took much. He hadn’t had work for a good few weeks so there was no job handover to worry about, and his parents had both passed away. His father had died when he was young, so for the most part it was just Steve and his mom, Sarah. They hadn’t had much, but they’d always had each other. Sarah had worked long hours, but whenever she came home she always dedicated every second of her time to Steve. Through his many illnesses, wounds from fighting… Sarah was patient, kind, gentle._

_She was a strong, determined woman but… whenever she’d get a new boyfriend, whenever there was an alpha in the house… it spelled trouble for them both. As a kid, they’d often simply ignore he was there, and Steve would lock himself in his room, pillow over his head and praying they would leave soon. When Steve presented as an alpha, things just got worse. Many a time, he’d be kicked out of the house, fearing for his mother’s safety but unable to return. Sarah had never been hurt but… the way the alphas would come into their small apartment, their dominating scent emanating from the very air surrounding them, it made Steve sick to his stomach. It was a display of power imbalance, him being kicked out. An aroused alpha did not want anything to get in the way of what they wanted, and… Steve was in the way. A challenge; something to demonstrate their very alpha-ness, their worthiness. In the end, Steve didn’t even bother to protest, simply walking the streets until late, sometimes sleeping in the fire escape. He despised the alphas for the way they threw their weight around; he was ashamed to be one._

_When he was shipped out for training, Steve was ready to leave all of that behind him. From the first day of camp, there was a group of soldiers – reeking of alpha hormones – who cornered him. Due to his size, they’d assumed he was an omega. One of them swaggered forward and Steve tensed, waiting for the first punch to land, ready to block it. But it never fell. Instead, the alpha drew up close behind Steve, inhaled deeply and… froze. A confused sound escaped the other man and… Steve KNEW. In that moment, he realised. The alpha hadn’t been looking for a fight. It defied everything he knew, but there was no other explanation._

_“Want to play omega for me, Alpha?” The voice was rough, sneering over the word Alpha but… Steve could scent the other man’s arousal. He tried his best to stop breathing through his nose. Breathing at all. That… was NOT what he wanted. He could feel the panic setting in, assessed how many of them there were, how low his chances of punching his way out… the group pressed closer, touching him. It was the most menacing situation Steve had been in and the world outside began to shrink down to him and… and THEM._

_“Hey!” The voice was commanding, cutting through the tense atmosphere in an instant. One of their commanding officers was shouting. They were expected somewhere else, they shouldn’t have been there. Steve had no recollection of this information; just dutifully and obediently moved away from the group towards their CO. Steve didn’t sleep that night; staying awake, staying vigilant._

_He didn’t see that group of soldiers again. Of course, once he’d had the serum, people naturally assumed him to be an alpha, and not one they’d like to challenge. He was shipped out as soon as he’d had enough time to adjust to his new body and then the front line of death and despair and desolation left room for very little else; exactly what he’d signed up for. Yet now, it just haunted him night and day. Steve was quickly learning that he’d run from a problem that not only followed him into war, but created a whole series of new ones._

_Then they’d formed the Commandos. It was a turning point for him; giving them all the purpose and direction they needed to defeat the enemy once and for all. And while he may have disagreed with certain… extra-curricular activities of the other Howlies, he’d also met a tight knit group of men who he’d willingly lay down his life for, and who he could trust with just about anything. If Steve entertained his darkest thoughts, it was regret that he never even tried to take up Falsworth’s offer. But the things they saw, the things they went through together… it was an unshakeable bond that could never be broken between them all. It was a safe space, nobody was going to come after him… but he was in charge. He couldn’t abuse his power like that._

_One of the worst moments of waking up in the future was knowing that his comrades had all passed away in the years he’d been frozen, that he never had the chance to live those post-war years with them. He’d read about how they’d gathered each year, from all the corners of the globe they ended up in. He’d give anything to have them by his side right now. People who… understood. Not only understood the war experienced they’d had but... people who knew what it meant to be a Howling Commando. People he could… somehow relate to, because he’d been trying his darndest but he still couldn’t work out a lot of the subtleties of the future. He should try and get in touch with their surviving relatives, see some snatches of the lives they’d made for themselves…_

Steve became aware he was staring into space and quickly refocussed. His apartment was warm, the summer sun now beating down through the vast windows, dust dancing in the sunlight lazily. He hummed thoughtfully and looked down at his work. He gasped. For the time he’d been lost in thought, each line, each shadow painted a story that Steve could only wish to be true. For all he’d been caught up in the past, his subconsciousness was determined to continue to bait him, tease him…

There, on the page, was a perfect likeness to Bucky as… as a Howling Commando? The perfectly fitting jacket, the look of concentration playing across his lips… his hair was shorter but somehow still effortlessly beautiful. He wouldn’t have been out of place with his Howlies either. He certainly would’ve been the best looking of them.

He was interrupted in thought by JARVIS, informing him he had a meeting with Dr Lockman. Snapping his notebook shut and taking it with him, Steve breezed out of the room, belying the tumult inside his head.

* - * - *

Steve’s thoughts were no less swirling when he left Dr Sarah’s office. He’d started calling her Dr Sarah as a compromise. Still an official title, but her first name as she gently reminded him that she preferred. He’d shown her the picture, retelling every thought, every memory. Somehow, saying the words aloud had made the whole situation seem less… of a big deal? Steve wasn’t sure why, but as soon as the words were leaving his lips they seemed like he was making a mountain out of a molehill, like he already knew the answers and was too scared to confront them. And that picture of Bucky… it seemed too personal, too awkward, too embarrassing how caught up in this guy he still was.

Dr Sarah had gently suggested he call Bucky. Much like everyone else was. Except Tony. Steve knew he could probably get around Tony if he had to but… that might not do so well for Bucky. He groaned and pushed his head up against the side of the elevator, just as it pinged and a huge form walked in.

“Captain America, my good man!” Thor opened up his arms and caught Steve in a friendly embrace. Steve returned the embrace enthusiastically. There was something about Thor that was so deeply respectful and kind, although some of his ways were a bit odd. But then again, in this strange future world, so was Steve. In a way, that had helped them both connect. Also, as someone not entirely human, Thor didn’t have a designation so Steve didn’t have to worry, or even think about that. Which was… refreshing.

“Thor, I- I had no idea you were here!”

Thor chuckled softly. “I found myself on Earth, and a friend needed me. The timing seemed impeccable, really.”

Steve looked puzzled for a moment. _Who had needed Thor?_ There were only a few select people that he interacted with on Earth, and Steve knew nearly every one of them.

“Come, let us eat together.” Thor clapped Steve on the shoulder, and stepped out of the elevator. Steve just nodded, allowing Thor to lead him to the employee dining hall. Usually Steve preferred the privacy of the upper levels, but he knew Thor loved to sample the wider range of “menu options Earth has to offer” found here. Plus really, everyone in this building was used to seeing him by now anyway. Heck, they’d even got used to Thor hanging around the place.

Thor steered them towards a booth at the back of the cafeteria. Not many people were here yet as most people hadn’t quite started their lunch breaks yet, so the booth afforded them the opportunity to sit down and talk freely. Thor took the liberty of piling up a series of plates with just about every food on the menu, and the entire table of the booth was covered in… quite a range of food. There were some things there Steve hadn’t even tried yet. Steve had just taken his first bite when Thor opened up the conversation.

“So, anyway, I had just arrived back here and I received a text from an old friend of mine. I’m sorry I hadn’t caught you sooner.”

Steve simply shrugged. He was still curious who this friend of Thor’s could be, but honestly? If the guy had a friend he needed to help out, Steve definitely wasn’t going to hold it against him. And truthfully, the peaceful way things had been going lately had been grating on Steve’s nerves. At least when there was something good to fight for, it brought purpose, direction, distraction from all the things he’d been talking about with Dr Sarah. I mean, sure, he needed to work through them, but when there was something bigger going on? That was the only time he felt truly empowered.

“But things on Asgard? They are good, now. I just wish my brother were more agreeable.”

Steve gave Thor a sympathetic look. While he didn’t understand Loki, he could understand Thor’s gravitation towards family. It had been so long since Steve had had anyone; a thought that gave him a pang of loneliness. If anyone understood that, even if their situations were vastly different, it was Thor.

Thor looked over to the entrance and gave a big wave. Steve knew Thor made it his business to be as friendly as possible to everyone who passed through, and guessed they wouldn’t get much more conversation over lunch.

“Tony, my friend! Induction day again?”

Steve put on his best professional face, ready to greet whoever the new… wait. Steve’s breath caught in his throat as the thoughts caught up with him and he pieced together the bits of information he’d been given. Steve _knew_ somebody who was starting with Stark on Monday. Of course they’d induct him on the Friday, so he could get straight to work on the Monday. Steve was not going to have a panic attack. He wasn’t. He pointedly stared down at the table and the mountain of food, hoping if he stared long enough he might disappear into Food Mountain where he could hide from this problem. His thoughts were interrupted by Thor’s excited voice.

“Bucky, my friend! Come join us! You too, Tony, there is plenty of food.” Both Steve and Tony looked surprised that Thor knew Bucky, but he was motioning them both over, shuffling across in his seat to make room.

“So I see,” Tony hummed thoughtfully, sliding in beside Thor. Which meant… wait… was Tony _winking_ at Steve? Talk about a 180, Tony usually only winked at him when he either didn’t understand some 21st century reference, or if he was trying to set him up with somebody. But after that conversation in the lab… surely not. Steve slid across so Bucky could sit down beside him. Bucky smiled at Steve shyly. There was another 180. Steve must be dreaming. This couldn’t be real. Bucky was dressed conservatively in a navy blue shirt and black trousers, which was somehow even more appealing than anything Steve had seen him wear before. The shirt highlighted the stormy colour of his eyes, which Steve quickly darted his own eyes away from, before he got lost in them. Thor had started to talk to Tony about some scientific theory, which was complete gibberish to Steve.

Was it Steve’s imagination, or was Bucky sitting closer to him than he strictly needed to? They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, and Steve marvelled at how good the contact felt. He could feel the full length of Bucky’s thigh pressed against his own, the touch simultaneously _too much_ but also _not enough._ He inhaled sharply at the contact, subconsciously. _Fool._ He was hit head-on by the scent of contented and happy omega, calming him but also making him long to crawl out of his skin. There was an itch he couldn’t scratch, making it feel as though his whole system was running hot. Bucky casually placed a hand on Steve’s knee under the table, out of view. He gave it a light squeeze. Steve’s breath caught, and he was surprised to see his own hand had gravitated to rest on Bucky’s. Before he’d even realised he’d done it.

_But was this wise? In front of Tony? What if this cost Bucky his job?_

Bucky smiled at Steve softly again, offering him a plate of food. Steve grabbed something off it, quietly thanking Bucky. What the food was, he had no idea. All he knew was that he’d never had a hunger quite like this before, and it had nothing to do with what he was eating. What the food even tasted like, Steve had no recollection. In that moment, all that existed was Bucky.

“So umm, how’s induction day been going?”

Bucky blinked, as though surprised Steve had spoken. But the smile that seemed to light up his entire face had been worth the initiative it’d taken Steve to even think straight, let alone ask the question. It made Steve feel special, as though that smile was just for him.

“Yeah, it’s been… it’s really good. The job is going to be amazing.” Bucky looked down at his plate. Was that a slight blush on his cheeks? It suited him, somehow making him even more breathtaking than before. Steve nudged him gently.

“I guess, uhh… that means we’ll be seeing a bit more of each other?” Steve tried his best to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, failing miserably. He became acutely aware that Thor and Tony had stopped speaking. _Why couldn’t he have realised they were listening to his conversation with Bucky before he opened his mouth and said that?_

Bucky looked amused, simply nodding and returning to his meal. But the hand on his knee gripped a little tighter, his thumb tracing circles on Steve’s leg. Steve took that as a resounding _yes_ , admiring how Bucky managed to keep things subtle. That… was something he needed to work on.

Tony pushed his plate away and stood up. “Well, if Capsicle is done with his sickly sweet and not so subtle ways of trying to steal my engineer, Mr Barnes and I need to finish our induction. I trust I’ll see you both at team bonding night tomorrow?” Tony winked at Steve again as Steve’s face turned from mildly embarrassed to mortified. He felt Bucky’s fingers interlace with his own, reassuringly. Bucky let go of Steve and stood up too, and it took every inch of Steve’s determination not to let out a whine at the loss of contact. Tony made some quick quip to Thor, and Bucky took advantage of the moment to give Steve a gentle pat on the shoulder. Then they both turned and walked away. Bucky hesitated at the door, turning back to face Steve and making a motion with his hand.

Steve looked puzzled. Thor laughed.

“He’s saying to call him, even I know that one.”

Steve grinned. He should’ve known that one too.

Thor clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder, moving to sit beside him.

“So, I think we need to have a chat about my friend James.”

* - * - *

Steve paced the floor of his apartment while Nat rummaged through his closet. Since she’d helped him construct a series of text messages for Bucky the previous evening, he’d managed to secure a coffee date on Tuesday. Steve hadn’t thought it fair to try and arrange something on Bucky’s first day, but he was deeply regretting the commitment to Team Bonding Night (which Nat was helping him dress for) when all he wanted to do was follow up on… whatever the signals he was getting from Bucky were. His stomach hadn’t stopped doing somersaults since lunchtime yesterday, and he’d barely slept as he worked through the various conflicts in his head, all of which circled back to how good he’d felt when Bucky was right there beside him. No matter what his head told him, being close to Bucky had felt _intoxicatingly_ good.

Nat stuck her head out of Steve’s closet, grinning. Steve knew that look. He wasn’t sure if he was going to feel ridiculous, or he was going to be incredibly happy with her choice, as the odds for both those options were about even. Either way, he’d be wearing something fashionable that other people would like seeing him in. For all Nat could tease him, she was incredibly talented at picking out clothes for him. Fortunately, this evening she’d chosen something subtle. A simple black button-down shirt which was slimming but non-descript, matched with a pair of black jeans he’d never seen before. He arched his eyebrow at Nat questioningly.

“Trust me, those jeans will do wonders for your ass.”

Steve simply rolled his eyes, having known Nat long enough to gather that any form of argument on his part was futile. He snatched the clothes out of her outstretched hand and marched off to change into them. He spent a good few minutes struggling into the jeans she’d given him. There was no way he could’ve gotten away with wearing pants that tight back in the 40s. He thought back to his conversation with Thor the previous day.

“Designation shouldn’t matter so much. Let the power come from whoever needs the power. Let the dynamic show that you can be the gentleman if that is what you need to show. The boy needs someone to treat him kindly; and the Captain I know is kind-hearted.”

Thor’s words kept reverberating through his mind. Perhaps Bucky wouldn’t be like all the others. Perhaps he didn’t expect an alpha to be forward or demanding. That would make a nice goddamn change. And the way Bucky had been so kind to him yesterday? For the first time in his life, Steve dared to hope a little. He carefully styled his hair, and looked in the mirror. Nat was right; it was a good look. He meekly walked out for her to inspect. She grinned again.

“Right, we should get going. We’re doing dinner, then drinks at a place around the corner.” Nat checked her phone, though Steve knew it wasn’t for directions. Nat being Nat, she’d probably already vetted out the venues, as well as planned twenty escape routes and alternate ways to get both to and from where they were going.

Steve was disappointed to not see Thor at dinner. The others kept him entertained and he relaxed knowing that while he was out and about with so much company, he was likely to be left well alone by the general public. The likelihood of being recognised was pretty high when they all went out together, but for the most part they left them well alone. Might have something to do with the looks Nat gave anyone who dared to approach, but still. It was a welcome reprieve from what Nat had been dragging Steve out on for what felt like forever. The meal was pleasant, the company was relaxed, and by the time they were walking around the corner to the bar there, Steve had relaxed somewhat.

He didn’t notice the poster on the wall as they entered the bar, advertising DJ Bucky was going to be there that night.


	6. Gently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky confronts his past and considers his options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chapter this week!
> 
> Bucky's backstory grew its own subplot... sorry! Please read the updated tags as some of it might be a tiny bit confronting. I fully intended to take this chapter to the end of the dj gig but... hopefully part two of this chapter will be up in the next few days (I'm still deciding if we are going to look at the next chapter from Bucky's or Steve's perspective... thoughts?)
> 
> Thanks as always to everyone who has followed along and offered words of encouragement and support. You guys are the BEST - big love xoxo

From the moment Bucky had stepped out of the taxi until he’d climbed the stairs and safely locked the door behind him, his heart had been beating ridiculously fast. He sunk to the floor almost involuntarily, drawing his knees up close in front of him and hugging them to his chest, his back firmly pressed against the door. His stifled sob turned quickly to a whimper of fright as the light suddenly turned on. He barely registered Clint crossing the room, kneeling beside him and throwing his arms around him. He knew the scent he was giving off was terrified, distressed. From the moment Thor had left him, Bucky realised one thing; he’d let this carry on for too long, let it go way too far. He’d seen his share of asshole alphas, but Brock? He was really a piece of work. Until Thor had stepped in, Bucky had felt powerless, trapped.

_Bucky had only been fourteen. That was the last time he’d felt that way. He’d been one of those tall, skinny kids. Lanky, shy, and definitely going through the stage where he was awkward and clumsy with his own body. He’d presented early, far earlier than any of his peers. Usually teens didn’t present until they were sixteen at the earliest. Bucky had gone through his first heat at the start of summer and it had been **hell.** He had spent four days with his fingers almost constantly up his own ass, dissatisfied, weak and needy. It was rare for a heat to last so long and it had nearly driven him insane. Thank fuck they only came twice a year, there was no way he’d be able to bear going through that more frequently. He swore several things when the heat mercifully ended: _

  1. _He was going to get the biggest knotting toy he could find_
  2. _He was going to need to build up his strength and endurance to make it through this again, and_
  3. _He was determined to lose his virginity before the summer was over._



_His neighbour, Justin, was about to start his senior year of high school, and exuded the confidence of an adult alpha. Bucky knew he wouldn’t be able to access suppressants for another four fucking years, so he knew if he let his omega pheromones do their job, there was little Justin would do to resist him. Honestly, Bucky could take or leave his neighbour, but after four days of tears flowing down his face as his body went through something that needy? Justin would do._

_Bucky thought carefully about his plan. How does one trap an alpha? It was the first time in his life that Bucky built up the act of both dressing provocatively and playing the role of a pathetic omega, and he took to it like a duck to water. He started by going round and knocking on the door, wearing cutoff jean shorts that were JUST the right side of his ass cheeks hanging out, muscle top with the low cut sides… asking for help with something inane and ridiculous he could clearly do himself. They’d ended up fucking on the back seat of Justin’s car that very night, so clearly Bucky had been doing something right. The feeling of being knotted was something that felt a bit awkward and embarrassing with his neighbour, but he was glad to get it out of the way early in the process so he didn’t have to think on it too much. It just… wasn’t a big deal. At least he told himself that. He wasn’t willing to admit just yet how much he craved the alpha’s knot._

_When the school year started, Bucky was the only one in his year level that had presented which was… problematic. There was a physical distance between him and his classmates now, something separating his experience from theirs. Don’t get him wrong – Bucky was glad not to be distracted by the scent of anyone in class time, as it meant he could keep ahead in his studies, just like he’d done before. Being an omega, he knew he’d have to fight to get what he wanted now, would have to be that bit smarter; that bit better. Bucky wound up in an advanced science class; accelerated because he was so far ahead._

_He found himself drifting towards spending more and more time with Justin and his friends, through shared experience and the time he’d been spending with the seniors in chemistry or physics classes. He and Justin had never called what they had a relationship; casual fucks in Justin’s car was all it had ever been, all Bucky convinced himself he wanted it to be. He noticed the way Justin’s friends looked at him, basked in the glow of the attention he received from the group. For the first time in his life he felt… pretty? Sexy? Cute? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the constant scent of mingling alpha arousal was heady; as though Bucky wielded some special power, as though he was special. Before he realised it, he and Justin had been fucking for a few months. What did that make it, a relationship? Bucky didn’t dwell on it._

_Even at fourteen, Bucky knew he was playing with fire. He’d been going to study sessions with Justin and his friends, though he was beginning to wonder if there was any academic benefit to them. That particular afternoon they were at Justin’s, sitting in his lounge room, where Justin was getting handsy in front of his friends. Bucky didn’t mind. He saw the way the others looked hungrily, his body starting to respond with a possessiveness of Justin, that Justin was **his** and everyone could see. Justin’s hands raked over his body, and Bucky purred. He didn’t care if Justin fucked him right into the couch there and then, claiming him before everyone._

_So when Justin hauled him roughly upstairs, Bucky didn’t hold back. Justin was pulling him apart and Bucky didn’t care who knew it. The sounds torn from his throat were needy, desperate, **loud.** Some might say the alpha had a hold over him, but this? This felt empowering. He’d chosen this, he’d started this, and as the screams reached an even louder register, it wouldn’t just be his friends downstairs but the whole damn neighbourhood hearing his cries of pleasure. There was a danger, but also a stupid amount of pride in his immature hindbrain in that moment. Justin was **his.** By the time they traipsed back downstairs, Bucky looked absolutely **wrecked** , hair stood up in about 500 different directions, t-shirt slightly torn in several places, reeking of sex. _

_Then the knock came to the front door. One of Justin’s friends answered to a policeman in response to a noise complaint, and Bucky’s face flushed. Justin made Bucky hide, seemingly angry with him. Like the whole house didn’t exude their mingled scent, betraying what they’d been doing for the past hour or so. Like Justin hadn’t **loved** the way Bucky cried out. By the time Bucky was hauled roughly out of the linen closet, Justin was furious. _

_“You gonna help pay this fine, **slut?** ” Bucky flinched at his words. His friends were laughing. Justin continued to berate him. “You know you’re only good for one goddamn thing, and I ain’t gonna be your **sugar daddy.”**_

_Bucky was lost for words. Sure, they’d never put a label on it. But surely, now, it was more than just a convenient fuck every now and then. Surely. He looked up to meet Justin’s eyes, but he refused to look at him. Bucky squared his jaw. Fine. Justin was angry. Maybe they were done here. He held his head high as he walked out the front door, only letting the tears fall as his heart broke into pieces when he reached the safety of his own house._

_The following afternoon, Justin didn’t show up at their study session. Bucky sat down in his usual spot at the library table, but Justin’s friends had changed their attitude. They crowded around him the second he sat down, getting in his personal space. The scent of alpha arousal at the table had taken on a far more menacing meaning without Justin’s possessive hands all over him. He heard the mutters going around the table of **good little slut** and **omega plaything** and his mouth went dry, his ears started ringing and everything around him began to blur._

_Bucky’s stomach turned over and his heart began to beat rapidly. He was going into fight or flight mode, because yeah. He was fucking terrified. These alphas had a good three years and a fuckton of muscle on him. He immediately stood up, gasping for air. He ran out of the library, and the alphas followed him. This wasn’t a game anymore. The first one touched his shoulder, and Bucky was at his fucking limit. He turned, and vomited. Right on the alpha’s feet. He could scent the fury of the alpha, could see his raised fist…_

_Who the man was who shouted, Bucky never learnt. He just saw his opportunity and bolted. Much like the aftershock of his encounter with Brock, he didn’t feel safe until he was locked away at home. That was the moment Bucky swore he’d become strong enough to protect himself. That he wouldn’t let anyone take anything from him that he didn’t want to. Baiting alphas was a dangerous game, one he was going to have to play a little more carefully._

_When he showed up to school the next day, he wasn’t surprised to hear the word getting around that he’d been fucking his way around the seniors, and that he was good for some **group study sessions**. Bucky shrugged. At least they said he was good, right? He had no intention of playing into the rumours, and he wasn't denying them either. Let people think whatever they wanted. Justin never spoke to him again. By the following year, when they had their designation studies classes, Bucky could’ve laughed at the scenarios that had been some of his own pitfalls. When they got to omega self defense courses the year after that, Bucky was well ahead of the curve. He joined a gym the day after the run-in with Justin’s friends, dedicating his free time to there instead of alphas in need of a good punch to the face. He knew how to exploit alphas, sure, particularly his teachers when he’d forget to hand something in, or any other situation where he was avoiding trouble or trying to get his way by going all **pathetic omega** on them, but he wasn’t going to lose himself to some asshole again. _

_It wasn’t until his college days were over that Bucky needed to revert to his old strategies to get by. He’d been a lot more discreet until high school was over, quietly chipping away at his physical training and keeping his head buried in books. Throughout college he fucked who he wanted to, and kept his head down the rest of the time. Most college kids didn’t have any weird agendas. Most just wanted the casual hook ups he did. No more confused emotions, no more seeing the same alpha more than once. And now he was on suppressants, he wasn’t going through heats. He swore never to ask an alpha to help him get through one; now he was determined never to have one again._

In college, he’d been hopeful. Thought people actually valued his skills, whether as a dj or an engineer. Somewhere between then and now, he’d lost that. Realised he could get paid a lot more readily if alphas saw a biological potential in him. That day with Justin’s friends, he’d felt helpless, despondent. Slowly that had simmered, festered until it became an anger, a white-hot rage that despised the power politics and stupid traditionalist ideas of his designation. And that anger built to some sort of stupid revenge scheme to exploit any and every alpha sleazeball he encountered. Over time, it wore him down to the messed up 20-something that thought his only value was his biological appeal. It had worn him down to a non-identity with only the falsest self-confidence.

Quietly, he sobbed in Clint’s arms.

* - * - *

Staying up all night the day before his induction was stupid, but Bucky and Clint both agreed it was necessary to work through all his shit before rocking up to Stark. Clint already knew all his backstory anyway. Bucky finally confessed how he’d gotten away from Brock, and Clint let out a low whistle.

“You know, a friend like that could definitely help with your Captain America situation,” he hummed thoughtfully. “In fact, if you kept Captain America around, you might not only piss off guys like Brock for good, you might even get enough of a good word in to keep that job.”

Bucky just sobbed harder. Clint knitted his brow, confused. This wasn’t Bucky’s usual agenda.

“Buck, what do you really want?” Clint grabbed him by both shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. Maybe this was the breakthrough moment he’d been waiting for. Maybe he wasn’t ready to address that yet. He turned away sulkily. To his surprise, Clint chuckled softly.

“C’mon man, it’s written all over your face. Has been since that first encounter. Just wanna hear it from you.”

Bucky picked up one of his shoes and threw it at the opposite wall. It landed with a satisfyingly loud **thunk**.

“Now, c’mon, you want us to lose our deposit? What’d that poor wall ever do to you, punk? Look, I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you react this way to someone before. You think I haven’t noticed the changes in you too? I’m not surprised this dickhead’s gettin’ the wrong idea, stupid alphas always think it’s about them.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up at Clint dangerously. _Fucking biology. Fucking Steve._ That last thought conjured up a whole new set of images for Bucky that he couldn’t afford to get lost in right now, couldn’t afford Clint to be proven right so easily. Quietly, he muttered to Clint about why Steve had been avoiding him, what he figured from his brief conversation with Thor. Give the dog a bone, maybe distract him for a little bit.

Clint just grinned at him, acknowledging the statement but not falling for it. He asked again. “But what do you really want?”

Bucky threw his other shoe at the wall, cuddled his knees up into his chest even tighter.

‘Just as well you’re not a fuckin’ centipede, I dunno how many more shoes that wall can take.”

Bucky conceded a small smile.

“Just so you know, I’m not lettin’ this go until you tell me what I already know.” Clint hauled Bucky to his feet and they moved to sit on the couch. Clint looked at him expectantly. Bucky sighed.

“I don’t **do** relationships, ok?”

Clint smirked.

“What? What’s wrong with that?”

Clint just waited.

“It’s…. incompatible. Unbearable. Awful. One of us is gonna hurt the other so goddamn much. I don’t wanna be some asshole that hurts Mr Fucking Perfect. He already looks like I’m destroying him every time we meet. It’s not exactly conducive to a healthy thing growing.”

Clint continued to look at him expectantly. This was progress. Bucky knew he was about to open this wide for Clint to give him the advice he probably fucking needed.

Bucky fell into silence. Clint cleared his throat. Bucky knew what that meant. _But you still haven’t answered my question._

“So yeah. Maybe I’ve been thinkin’, maybe I’ve imagined what it would be like to take things slow and get to know the guy and treat him right. Have him treat me right. Go on actual dates without even talkin’ dirty. See if Thor can tell me if it’s a good idea or not. See if I can resist that biological feeling for a bit. Just. Not stay away.”

Clint’s eyebrows could not go any higher without reaching his hairline. In all the years he’d known Bucky, this was the most out of character thing he’d ever said. Carefully he schooled his features into something more neutral, nearly making Bucky laugh. Being unreadable had never been Clint’s strong suit.

“I feel like the guy needs someone to be gentle. I don’t even fuckin’ know if I can handle gentle without falling apart. Haven’t tried to be gentle, ever. Don’t fuckin’ know how.”

Clint broke the silence that settled after that statement.

“So, you just told me a plan for taking things gently before you told me you don’t know how. Sounds like you’d already got a plan. Sounds like you were trying to jeopardise it.”

Bucky sighed. “But then, the job. The job offers me an out for every part of myself I’ve grown to hate.”

Clint looked thoughtful for a moment. “You sure Stark just doesn’t want his employees all fucking around on the job? I mean, if you’re gonna take it slow, maybe other people won’t have to know about it. And honestly? If you don’t act on this it’s gonna be written all over your face anyway, more obvious than if you approach it discreetly.” Bucky considered this for a moment, nodding slowly. Biologically, he wasn’t going to be able to keep away from Steve. Logically, he should choose the path of least resistance. Clint’s advice was actually… sounding more and more like the most feasible option. He was just going to wind up miserable if he didn’t try. Steve, probably, too.

“Get some sleep, Buck. Oh – and wear the blue shirt to Stark’s, it brings out your eyes.” Clint winked.

* - * - *

So Bucky found himself bright and early, being signed in at reception at Stark Tower. The woman behind the desk gave him a knowing smile. _Fuck, it was the same woman as last time._ Bucky didn’t let that rattle him, smiling politely back. He was buzzing after the two coffees he’d downed on his way to the tower, not that he really needed them. Once he’d made his mind up, he spent a couple of hours planning out scenarios in his head. One that was abundantly clear was that no matter what happened, he needed to play this one confidently. And gently. Gentler than he had before. He gave himself a point of reference of looking out for Clint. The outburst from Bucky wasn’t the first time one or the other of them had needed to lean on someone. If Bucky knew how to be that person for Clint, maybe that was the person he needed to be for Steve. It would leave him vulnerable but… maybe vulnerable was what he needed.

His nerves were shot. Through the roof, if he was honest. He fought hard to maintain his composure, act naturally. Bucky took a deep breath as Tony Stark approached him, his smile warm and genuine. Not his fake, smarmy smile for alphas, but a genuine smile. Tony had handed him a lifeline, and Bucky was going to make damn sure Mr Stark knew he appreciated it. Plus, all these small habits needed to break. He might as well start now. He’d spent a good amount of time putting together a nice outfit, making sure his hair looked just right – soft, non-threatening, styled-to-look-not-styled.

Bucky was surprised Tony was running the induction himself. He was sure that Mr Stark would have plenty of people able to put him through his paces, check off paperwork, tour the building… Bucky wasn’t sure if it was suspicious or a good sign. He pushed down the negative thoughts and followed Tony (he insisted Bucky call him Tony) into the elevator. And Tony never stopped talking. By the time they reached the room where they were starting, Bucky had pretty much a full history of Stark Enterprises… not that he hadn’t already done his research. The room they entered wasn’t one of the conference rooms. It wasn’t one of the labs either. They were on an executive floor, high enough to have decent views of the city, large open-plan spaces, luxurious furniture. Tony gestured Bucky to sit down.

“Ok, first of all, we’re done with damn formalities. You’re here because you’re talented. So talented, I might even get on my knees and beg you to stay.” Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but Tony dismissed him with a simple wave.

“I’m talking right now; you’re listening. There are lots of things about working here that might seem a little odd at first, but I’m here to tell you _why_ we do them so you don’t go worrying your pretty little head about them.” Bucky smirked. Tony had barely paused for breath before continuing. “Now, when the agency contacted, I heard they said this was a temporary position. While, strictly speaking, that’s true, I consider this more of a trial period. Prove yourself over the next month, I’m more than happy to bump your position up to an ongoing one.”

Bucky’s breath caught at that. All he wanted, offered right there. Tony was continuing on as though that offer was nothing to him. To Bucky, it was everything. Well, almost. But he’d get to that.

“Hours can be flexible as long as you’re putting in the work; if I need you here at a particular time you’ll know in advance. Health insurance is fully covered, but it’s all done internally. Not my way of checking up on everyone, but a good way to control the quality. Also, part of contract states that your suppressants are provided onsite, and your health is monitored. As long as you’re not planning on getting pregnant or have anything you’re dying of, you’re good.” He grinned at Bucky.

“Not saying I’m mucking up any future plans but… I’d like us to be able to work together on some things before I lose another good engineer that way.” He looked almost sheepish. “Might’ve overreacted on that one earlier in the week, don’t know if you know what it feels like to have the Black Widow in your ear telling you that you’ve overreacted?” Bucky shook his head. No. He didn’t particularly have any desire to either. He wasn’t sure what Tony was getting at, exactly, but he had no desire for heats, pregnancy or to die of anything, so his terms seemed more than reasonable.

“What you get up to and who you get up to it with is none of my business as long as it’s not when you’re on the clock and it’s not going to affect your job performance, or your ability to show up when I need you to.” Tony looked at him pointedly. Bucky nodded, a small smile on his lips. If he was waiting for a signal, that was definitely his go ahead.

* - * - *

They’d spent hours in the lab, talking. Bucky knew his induction was meant to go for two hours; he’d been there over four. Once he and Tony got talking about potential projects, the pair of them hadn’t been able to stop talking. It was one of the most intellectually stimulating conversations Bucky had ever had. Tony seemed impressed with Bucky’s knowledge and innovation. Really, the job was an absolute dream. And now he knew why Tony had wanted to run him through the induction himself; he’d be working DIRECTLY with him on a lot of things. Tony eventually stopped their conversation short and suggested they go get some lunch. Bucky nodded enthusiastically and they got into the elevator, heading for the employee cafeteria.

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly as they went in and he saw Thor and Steve sitting together at one of the booths at the back. Tony nudged him gently in the side. Before Bucky could process that, Thor called them over. Bucky could see from Tony’s expression that he’d have some explaining to do. But that could be done later. He noticed the way Tony sat in with Thor, indicating to Bucky he should sit beside Steve. Bucky smiled shyly as Steve moved across to make room for him. The booths weren’t very big; Tony was at risk of being squashed by one of Thor’s rather sizeable biceps at any moment. And Bucky realised he’d have the perfect excuse to touch Steve.

Steve’s scent was overwhelming. It really didn’t take any effort on Bucky’s part to relax into it, lean against Steve to feel that connection. There was some awkward small talk by both of them, but at least Steve wasn’t running away this time. Might have something to do with the fact Bucky had him trapped in a booth, but anyway. Progress was progress. Steve let Bucky put his hand on his knee, and Steve’s hand over his own felt… nice. He meekly accepted the food Bucky offered him, so that was something. Tony might’ve interrupted them but… turning to signal he wanted Steve to contact him, surely that wasn’t too much? Steve looked like Bucky had kicked a puppy when he stood up and broke their physical contact. Whatever was going on with this guy, he clearly wanted this like Bucky did. Bucky had a spring in his step for the rest of the induction. As far as good days go, this was definitely near the top.


	7. Star Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's about to go to his last dj gig for Rumlow and Pierce, with a few unexpected guests dropping in...

Once Bucky signed his contract and was issued his access card for the following Monday, he left Stark Tower feeling a whole lot lighter than when he’d walked in. He was riding the glorious high that came from the payoff of taking a stupid risk and while he knew that he’d only taken the first step and there was still a long way to go with everything, _what a fucking leap to start with_. He was soaring, fucking flying right now. Bucky realised with a start that he was in a hell of a different place to where he’d been a week ago. Hell, he’d been in a lot of fucking different places in the past week; highs, lows and a hell of a lot of uncertainty. And while some of that uncertainty remained, he could make peace with that for the time being. Biologically, he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he chased down whatever this was with Steve, but now that was on track he could take his time with it, actually take a breath and focus on his career while seeing where this led.

Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket to find several missed calls off Clint. _Shit, he’d been meant to be out of Stark Tower hours ago._ Quickly he hit the redial button. Clint picked up on the first ring.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry I’ve only just left the tower!” Bucky apologised in a rush before Clint could berate him properly. Clint laughed.

“Business floors or residential? Or is that a euphemism for something else?”

Bucky rolled his eyes so hard he could’ve sworn Clint could hear them rotating.

“After the conversation we had until what fuckin’ time-“

“Yeah, but you can’t tell me you’re not thinkin’ about it. I know you’ve been thinkin’ about it. All the scent diffusers in the world aren’t gonna change that. The _tower_ , eh? Might be a good nickname for a particular part of Captain America, who knows?”

Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes again, even though Clint couldn’t see him. “And I was having such a fuckin’ nice day too…”

“Nice and you aren’t normally two things I’d associate together but… I’ll concede that one today. As long as you don’t mean nice because you were _fucking_ , in which case I don’t want to hear abou- yeah yeah I know. You heading home?”

“Yeah, was gonna pick up some groceries on the way. You need anything?”

Bucky became aware his phone had buzzed a few times, so he quickly finished up with Clint and smiled. He tapped out his responses and practically skipped to the supermarket.

Bucky was tempted to say so much more. He reined it back in, took a deep breath and put his phone back away. But hey, now he had the guy’s number, there was nothing stopping him from sending memes, selfies, conversations… because first and foremost, he was determined to befriend the guy. At least get a decent read on him. It wasn’t often he was affected by an alpha’s scent much at all, let alone the degree to which Steve was affecting him. Usually there was a sense of dread accompanying it and it was slightly unnerving Bucky that he wasn’t feeling that this time. There was a biological compatibility he was dying to explore, sure. But if it turned out Captain America was secretly a psychopath? Then Bucky could just nope the fuck out of there, try and catch it before he was left too weak and vulnerable. He was determined not to feel as desolate and powerless as he had as a teen.

Because now, there was definitely something a bit scary about what he was doing. Terrifying, honestly. There was a risk involved, of course, but this was pretty new territory to him. Stepping into the realm of friendship and non-sexual conversation, actually trying to build something that’d last longer than the weekend? Not exactly his area of expertise. Sure, Steve seemed like some terrified little animal that needed gentle nurturing and coaxing, but at the end of the day he was still an alpha, and a lot came with that biological territory. And Bucky was determined to keep his independence and autonomy, whatever the cost, however it defied the biological instincts he had; that anybody else had. Bucky absent-mindedly grabbed the groceries, running on autopilot until he found himself outside his apartment, forgetting for a moment he’d need his keys to get in. He fumbled for a minute, still grinning about his day despite his reservations.

Clint opened the door, huge smile on his face.

“So umm, guess who got a commission on a huge project today?”

Bucky shouted, dropped the groceries on the ground and clapped Clint on the shoulder, casually wrapping him in a one-armed embrace.

“We gotta celebrate this, right?”

Clint nodded. “Was thinkin’ we could case the place you’re going to be at tomorrow night, grab a couple of drinks, maybe some laser tag?”

Bucky grinned. It’d been awhile since they’d played laser tag and they were the _perfect_ team. The last time one of them actually missed a target had been five years ago when they were pretty wasted, and they’d still beaten the team of competitive alphas there who had bragged about being unbeatable. Plus, it’d be great to go along with some backup to the venue, too. Bucky knew Clint was doing that for his benefit, making sure he’d be alright in the event they bumped into Brock. He squeezed Clint’s shoulder a bit tighter, wordlessly thanking him. He was going to make sure tonight was all about Clint; he’d put up with enough of Bucky’s crap lately.

* - * - *

The venue was in a nicer part of town, and brought a mix of people. Good feel, good vibe. Bucky and Clint sat perched at the upstairs balcony, people watching. Clint joked about bringing the paintball guns and Bucky nearly spat out his drink, imagining them firing upon the crowd. It’d be great to see Brock covered in paint, he had to admit. He nervously scanned the room but there was no sign of the alpha anywhere. He was enjoying the slower pace and people watching, him and Clint just relaxing into easy banter. It’d been awhile. But no sooner had Bucky finished his first drink than Clint was leading him to the dance floor. Bucky grinned. It wasn’t often he got to just enjoy the music like this nowadays, and this was good too. Clint might have two left feet, but he more than made up for it with his enthusiasm. They took it in turns grabbing drinks until both of them were suitably tipsy, dancing like nobody was watching, just two omegas, two friends, out having a good laugh.

Bucky was on about his fourth or fifth run to the bar when he felt the prickle on the back of his neck. He’d been pleasantly buzzing from the amount of alcohol in his system, but he felt a heavy drop in his stomach as it started heaving. Bucky noticed his hands had gone clammy; he was starting to sweat. Every cell in his body was screaming to run. _He was here, but where?_ Bucky breathed slowly through his mouth, willing himself to calm down a little. He swayed his hips in time to the music as he threaded the crowd, taking a chance dodging around a large group to do a full 360 turn, scanning the room, appearing a lot more casual than he felt inside. Bucky wished his head wasn’t spinning quite so much; he and Clint might be overdoing it on the whole celebrating thing. He’d nearly done a full circle when he locked eyes with the alpha. About twenty steps away; far enough in this kind of crowd. Bucky deliberately dropped his eyes to the ground, squatting to pretend he was picking something up. He could sense the alpha drawing slowly nearer, and he turned quickly back to collect Clint and exit the building as fast as he possibly could, his heart pounding every step of the way.

It was only when they were a few blocks from the bar that Bucky started to relax. They’d nearly made it to laser tag, but Clint suggested they stop by the burger place on the way. Bucky shrugged. He had to admit they probably needed a bit more of a break between drinking and tag anyway. No good destroying their perfect record, after all. Clint was at the giggly stage of tipsy, and as Bucky relaxed, he fell back into that too. Maybe part of it was the adrenaline of escaping Brock, maybe it was the day he’d had. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. He knew he’d be paying for it tomorrow. His thoughts had drifted back to Steve again, the feel of Steve so close to him, that intoxicating scent that had been haunting him ever since he first saw him. No alpha had ever dominated his thoughts this much. No, not even Justin when Bucky was a kid who didn’t know any better. Bucky’s parents were both betas and they had no clue how to deal with having an omega son; he didn’t know how to deal with himself. But now he was a grown-ass man who, frankly, couldn’t stop thinking about this man, well, up his ass. No matter how slowly or gently they took this, there was an inevitable conclusion they were headed toward.

Bucky’s thought process was interrupted as the fries started to hit his face.

“Clint, what the _actual fuck?_ ” he hissed, starting to throw some back. Clint guffawed, ducking under the table.

“Clint, it’s fucking filthy under there!” Clint had crawled under the table and was resting his hands on Bucky’s thighs, looking up at him mischievously.

“Well stop fucking sending that scent out, alphas will be chasing us for miles.”

Bucky froze, his eyes widening.

“Dude, you can’t tell me you didn’t know you were doing it.” Clint looked up at him, still squatting under the table like a five year old.

Bucky shook his head slowly, fear registering on his face. _Why the hell was he even taking his suppressants if they weren’t working for even the slightest thoughts about Steve? This couldn’t be normal. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with him. Maybe that was why everything seemed so fucked up lately. He’d had a great balance before, damn it. How the fuck was he meant to pass medical at Stark on Monday? If he couldn’t pass medical he’d be out on his ass on day one in the job. He could only hope that whatever they gave him there was more effective._ Clint crawled up Bucky’s lap like a cat, settling himself comfortably on Bucky’s thighs, and patted his head clumsily. Bucky instinctively twitched away from Clint’s drunken affections, pushing him off his lap to sit beside him. Clint looked up at him sulkily.

“Betcha wouldn’t push me off your lap if I was an Avenger,” he pouted. Bucky smirked.

“Only one of them,” he muttered dejectedly, picking up his burger. “Eat your food instead of throwing it, we got some alpha ass to kick at laser tag.”

* - * - *

They’d both sobered up a fair bit by the time they arrived at laser tag, and by the time they’d suited up, they both had their game faces on. Clint grinned at Bucky, giving him a huge thumbs up. Bucky nodded back at him. They’d already eyed up the competition; a group of eight teens, probably 17 or 18, all alphas. Recently presented, looking for ways to prove themselves. Bucky grinned dangerously. He couldn’t wait to mess them up. Two older omegas, clearly been drinking, against eight alphas? If it wasn’t him and Clint, he wouldn’t like their chances either. Kate, on the booth, smirked at them. Anyone else at the venue would’ve tried to talk them out of it, but Bucky knew Kate was going to enjoy this as much as they were. For some reason, she kept looking to the walkway above the gaming zone. Bucky scented the air, but there was no threat here. He arched an eyebrow at Kate, who simply shrugged.

Now wasn’t the time for getting distracted anyway. Bucky had managed to snag his favourite laser gun tonight, and he was in the mood for kicking some alpha ass. And even if Clint had somehow managed to twist his ankle on the way there, he knew the young alphas still didn’t stand a chance in hell. He watched them eyeing them both off, focussing his mind on the task at hand, pushing everything else aside. They thought they were going to have it easy. They were wrong. The alpha scent was cocky, not strong enough to be anything threatening (hell, Bucky could kick all their asses single-handedly, he was sure of it) and that could definitely play to their advantage too. As they entered, Clint gave Bucky a series of hand signals, and they started their first strategic play.

The game was very quickly over, and the alphas, naturally, assumed they cheated and demanded a rematch. Bucky and Clint, ever the gracious winners, offered to take them on again, and certainly weren’t looking forward to kicking alpha ass _twice_ in one evening at all. Bucky would be the first to admit he loved this feeling. Probably more than he should. There was something incredibly satisfying about this, without the usual risks associated with any kind of conflict with alphas. Clint sided up to Bucky before they re-entered the game zone.

“See Black Widow watching us from the gangway? Think she’s checking you out for someone.” Clint winked as they entered the game. He gave Bucky a quick pat on the back as Bucky scanned the upper level. Sure enough, the familiar fiery hair and quietly observant eyes of Natasha were watching them both. She gave him a small smile; he gave her a thumbs up, then focussed back on task. _Why was she here? Things were going fine with Steve, slowly, sure, but fine. He knew she was notoriously untrusting of others, but for fuck’s sake, he and Clint were literally just playing a game at an arcade. Hardly anything worth watching._

“Maybe she’s watchin’ you, how’d you fancy Ms Romanoff?” Bucky winked at Clint, who looked mildly terrified at the prospect. They both burst out laughing before they chose their play for round two.

They beat the alphas in half the time and left immediately afterward. Where Natasha had gone, Bucky didn’t know, and he didn’t particularly have the energy to worry about too much. He and Clint quickly made their way to the bar across the street, where the kids couldn’t follow them. Last thing they needed was some butthurt alphas trying to flex and prove themselves after getting thrashed at laser tag. _Butthurt. It’d been awhile._ Clint slapped Bucky across the chest, jolting him from his thoughts. _Fuck, he wasn’t even up to any seriously dirty thoughts yet._ He looked at Clint quizzically, who simply nodded and sighed. Right. Tonight was meant to be about Clint. Bucky went up to the bar and ordered the first round of drinks.

* - * - *

Clint emerged, red-eyed and stumbling, around midday, wrapped in a duvet like a Clint-burrito. Bucky looked up from his laptop where he was working on the setlist for that night. Clint muttered something incomprehensible and trudged over to the kitchen, where Bucky had some leftover pancakes covered. He grinned at Bucky, who shook his head gently and went back to work. Clint was moving like a snail, and kind of looking like one too as he slid onto the couch next to Bucky.

“You know, you don’t even need this fuckin’ gig.” Clint’s voice was gravelly, but his face was full of concern. Bucky turned to look at him, but Clint was already waving his hand at Bucky dismissingly.

“Yeah, yeah, eggs, basket, got it. But I saw that fuckin’ alpha, you don’t want to mess with that kind of shit.” Clint looked at Bucky pointedly. “Particularly if your suppressants ain’t workin’ right now.”

Bucky shifted on the couch awkwardly. “I can handle it,” he said through gritted teeth, though his face told a different story, he knew. Truth be told, Bucky had never felt so out of his depth in his life. He didn’t know what was wrong with his body, he didn’t know why his usual tricks were failing to keep Brock at bay. He didn’t want to risk everything on Stark yet, either. He just needed a damn good set. The best he’d done. Thor would be there; everything would be fine. He didn’t know why he was so scared by everything. Everything was out of his control; maybe that was it. He was desperately clinging to the threads of all he knew.

Clint poked at his foot; Bucky kicked out defensively.

‘I’m gonna get some friends together for tonight. Don’t care if you’ve got the _god of fucking thunder_ , I’ve still got your back, man.”

Bucky gave him a small smile. “Sorry, I’ve been a needy little shit lately.”

Clint just shrugged. “Yeah, but you’re still _my_ needy little shit. And I’d fight Captain America himself to keep that position.”

Bucky laughed.

* - * - *

The vibe that night was even better than it had been when Bucky and Clint had been there the night before. The setlist was going down a treat, Bucky was dancing and involving the crowd, and the feedback was fantastic. Part of him wished he could keep djing forever. These moments were what he lived for. To make so many people happy, to just _feel_ the music and be part of it, where nothing else seemed to matter. He knew the moment was fleeting. Brock would be here before he knew it, and even if Clint and his friends were in one corner, even if Thor was in another, even if Kate had brought some friends tonight… it didn’t matter. Bucky had a feeling he was going to have to physically fight off Brock tonight, one way or another. Destroyed the point of doing the gig, along with any chance of getting paid… he’d have to try and hold back, wait for his friends to help him out.

He was doing three sets that night. It was partway through the second set that he noticed the crowd looking over to the corner where Thor was. _Damn, they’d recognised him. There goes Plan A._ He kept playing the song he had on, looking to see what all the fuss was. Shit, was that Tony? And… Ant-Man? Some people that looked distinctly like SHIELD agents? Natasha was there too, talking to… oh shit. Shit. As soon as his eyes locked with Steve’s, he was lost. Thank _fuck_ he was across the room, because Bucky was starting to feel like he needed to run across there and touch every inch of him. And while he couldn’t say for certain, he was pretty damn sure that wasn’t the best first impression to give with his new boss. Just an inkling.

Bucky fought to regain control, fiddling with his gear as he changed up the next song. It was a quiet nod, just one line. Nobody else would pick up on it, but it’d let Steve know he was glad he came. _No, no, don’t think about it._ Bucky regained his composure as the opening bars of McFly’s _Star Girl_ started to play. He could’ve gone with some kind of superhero song but… that wasn’t the level of subtlety he was trying to play. But c’mon, the chance to show Steve he appreciated him, that wasn’t crossing any lines, was it? The line was coming…

_And I was afraid when you kissed me_

_On your intergalactical frisbee_

_I wonder why, I wonder why_

_You never asked me to stay…_

Bucky made the motion of Captain America throwing his shield over the frisbee line, winking straight at Steve. He blushed, looking down, but the way he smiled shyly at Bucky when he looked back up was _everything._ And Bucky was going to put that _everything_ into the rest of the set. A strange energy seemed to possess him, and when the song ended he winked at Steve again, who grinned and applauded him. Bucky could _definitely_ work with this, as he threw his way back into his planned set, dancing and showing off. He didn’t notice the warning glances Clint was trying to shoot him. This was his moment, and if Steve was going to be responsive then Bucky was going to give him his best.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Steve approaching the booth, the rest of the group following behind. He grinned, and turned his attention back to the task at hand. The rest of the set passed in a blur, though there seemed to be an awful lot of people approaching the booth… and they seemed to be giving Bucky the wrong sort of attention. He looked at Clint, who looked ready to slit his throat then and there. _Well shit._ He called the break in between sets, but before Clint could approach him, Steve was there, arm outstretched, handing him a beer. _The same type of beer he was drinking the night he first met him. Had Steve remembered?_ He grinned at Steve, accepting the drink from his hand, and their fingers lightly brushed each other. It was like fireworks going off, and Bucky was torn between craving more of that touch and needing to get back to his job. He settled for patting Steve gently on the shoulder, and Steve practically _nuzzled_ into his touch. This was going to be tough.

Thor pushed forward, and Steve stepped aside, as though they’d discussed this earlier. Thor sided up to Bucky and muttered in his ear that he’d shared with the team why he was there that night. Bucky looked alarmed, but then he realised that he had a whole team of highly trained operatives watching his back. As he looked around, he noted the way they watched the room. Sure, he might have felt like he was losing control a bit there with Steve, but hey. Even if it was a bit embarrassing, he was safe. And that was reassuring. He thanked Thor quietly, and Steve was looking at him, concerned. But his time was up; set three was about to begin. Bucky gave Steve an apologetic smile.

Subconsciously, he licked his lower lip and his cheeks turned pink, his eyes looking at Steve hopefully. Steve simply nodded, his own cheeks flushed. He scratched the back of his neck, looking at Bucky somewhat… adoringly? Bucky turned back to the booth, to the task at hand. No matter how adoringly Steve looked at him, Bucky had a job to finish. And he was almost there. Just one set to go. Bucky took a deep breath, and from such close quarters, it filled him with the scent of Steve, heady, dizzying, dangerously beautiful. Bucky could live off that scent the rest of his life, and the thought of that still terrified him. But that scent was _everything_ in every breath Bucky took.

It was only one song in that Brock made his appearance. He’d only brought two others with him tonight; big, beefy alphas that looked more like bodyguards than companions. The look he gave Bucky was menacing, threatening. Bucky knew he was in for trouble, and squared his shoulders, turning his attention back to the music. He scented the air again, and noticed Steve’s scent had spiked as the protective alpha in him struggled not to intervene yet. Of course. He was Captain Fucking America, of course he wanted to protect people. That was his damn job. But suddenly, Bucky wanted to handle this himself; otherwise Brock would just seek him out when Steve, or Thor, or whoever else wasn’t around. The way Brock watched him told Bucky he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Now it was inevitable, Bucky realised the fight was his.

The set ended, Bucky thanked everyone for their time. Brock stepped forward on one side of the booth, Steve on the other. Bucky put a hand to Steve’s shoulder in a way he hoped was reassuring. Lifting his chin high, he turned to face Brock.

“Sweetheart, nice set.”

“Not your sweetheart,” Bucky hissed through gritted teeth. Now the gigs were done, he didn’t owe Brock another second of his time.

“Playing hard to get tonight? I wondered where you disappeared to last night, smellin’ so good.”

Bucky shook his head at him. “Not gonna happen.”

The grin Brock gave him was predatory as he reached forward and grabbed Bucky’s wrist firmly. Before Bucky could pull away, he heard a loud growl beside him as Steve stepped forward. _No, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go down, and why oh why was the sound of that growl going straight to his dick?_ Bucky pulled his wrist free and pushed against Steve’s chest and _oh holy shit, he was going to be dreaming about that chest tonight, the taut muscles, the heated skin…_ Bucky took one deep breath, raised his fist and punched Brock square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. _Shit, had he knocked Brock out? He’d knocked Brock out cold!_ Brock wasn’t moving on the ground, the gasp of the crowd barely registering to Bucky as he scoped the scene. He looked to see what Brock’s friends were doing, but they hadn’t signed up to fight the Avengers and were tailing it out of there.

Bucky turned back to face Steve, grinning. Steve’s eyes shone as he grinned back. “That… that was impressive, Buck.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline, or the fact that Steve’s scent emanated the pride he felt, or the fact that Bucky barely held his impulses in all night, but he instinctively knew he was making the right move when he looped his legs around Steve’s hips and brought their lips together in a searing kiss, which Steve seemed only too happy to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh I'm sorry this took so long everyone! Unfortuntely work is about to get really hectic over the next couple of months, so either I'll update a lot less (or I'll procrastinate and keep updating - who knows?)
> 
> But yay, Steve and Bucky progress!! 
> 
> Because I'm not sure if I'll be able to update this as often I wanted to end this chapter on a high note. I've got a lot more planned for this universe, but if you don't like to be left hanging... I hope this doesn't leave things hanging?
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has been reading, leaving kudos and commenting - you are all legends! I'll do my best to update as often as I can.


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